Born To Run
by rosieloves23
Summary: When Puck gets out, he's gonna keep right on running. Only he doesn't want to do it by himself this time. Set after 2x04.
1. Hungry Heart

**A/N: I got the urge to write Puckleberry. the show is making me weep with all the Finchel so this is my outlet. probably about 4 chapters in all so, if it sounds good do please let me know and i'll post the rest!**

**Disclaimer: there's no way i would own Glee and keep giving Finn solos. sorry Cory, you're a sweetheart and a doll but you can't sing.**

There's a buzzing noise and she can't deny she jumps a little. The whole place makes her feel on edge and very much over her head. Still, she's Rachel Berry and she's a performer and if nothing else she can give him a bright smile when he wanders into the room scowling. He doesn't look smaller or sadder or anything like what her research told her to expect. In fact he looks a little angrier, his eyes seem darker and his arms flex threateningly under his grey shirt as he slouches down into his seat and picks up the phone.

"You doin' here Berry?"

"I came to see how you were Noah." He snorts and looks around, "were you hoping for someone else?" She tries to ignore the flutter of disappointment that unfurls in her stomach.

Noah shakes his head, smirking, "nope, just lookin' for the cameras."

She feels foolish for not following but- "the paparazzi? I wasn't aware they would have an interest although I suppose one must expect the unexpected after Regionals-"

"Berry for chissakes, I was talking more about you attempting to film some compassionate Hallmark crap about visiting the needy or something for your Myspace page. Well you can definitely forget that, I am _not_ reading from a script."

She blinks, swallowing down on her hurt, she has to remember he is in a much worse position right now, he is allowed to be angry and defensive. "No," she says in an unusually small voice, "I just came to see you."

He seems to deflate a little and his eyes (still lovely as ever she must admit) widen in surprise, "you serious?"

"Yes," she shakes herself briefly and attempts to regain her composure; he seems to be doing the same thing. "No-one at school had been able to tell me how you were doing and I wished to check for myself."

"You worried about me Berry?"

"Of course! We're team mates."

Noah scoffs, "yeah well, you're the only _team mate_ who's bothered to drop by."

Rachel is shocked, Finn's been reassuring her all week that he went last weekend and that Puck was fine. "I'm sorry," she says finally, "if I had known I would have tried to encourage a group trip or-"

"Forget it," he says shortly, "it's not like there's anyone there to give a crap about anyone. They don't bother about me," he shrugs, "then I'll just extend them the same courtesy."

She can't help but raise an eyebrow and he rolls his eyes, "yeah sometimes I can be articulate too Berry- quit with the surprised act."

"I apologise," she says lightly, "your over use of words such as dude or chick must have incorrectly implied otherwise."

He blinks, "you do that shit on purpose?"

She kinks her eyebrow again and he barks out a laugh, "holy shit, Rachel Berry's kinda hilarious if you listen real closely."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment from you."

"Do that," he says, his eyes flashing with something as they meet hers through the glass. She suddenly feels far too close and not close enough to him all at once. To compensate she leans back against the chair, crossing her legs and ignoring his pointed glance at the thigh she reveals as her skirt slides up.

"Is there anything you would like me to do for you Noah?" His smirk widens and she flushes, cursing herself, "please refrain from saying anything lewd."

He holds up his free hand, "hey, you're the one who set me up for it with that offer."

"Even so, it would be beneath you."

Puck snorts, "babe I ran my car into a fuckin' store, I'm in juvie and I'm talkin' to the _only_ person from my school who even bothered to visit, _nothing _is beneath me."

"Don't be ridiculous," she says briskly, "this is not permanent Noah. And when you get out you will resume your normal activities- football, gl-"

"Don't even finish that sentence," he interrupts suddenly, glancing nervously to either side of him but the dudes he's in with really don't give a shit. One of them looks like he's about to make out with the screen while his girlfriend sobs down the phone and the other one is blinking apologetically while his mother yells a whole lot of angry sounding Spanish at him.

Rachel rolls her eyes, "very well, I will tell you about the rehearsal to the glee club which _I_ and _I_ alone attend."

He can't help but chuckle, she's so damn obvious.

They sit and talk for the next ten minutes, or rather she realises later, _she_ rambles on about rehearsals and homework and he nods and grunts non committedly. When the guard comes over she stands and Noah lifts an eyebrow appreciatively, "glad you wore the pink one today Berry, gives me something to think about later."

She scowls, that cute little frown she gets when he's driving her nuts at rehearsals appearing- he knows it's his own personal frown cos it just screams furious sexual tension and makes him think of all the things he'd do to piss her off, get her riled up and then see what she'd do about it when he's got her up against the lockers or something and oh yeah- she's still frowning at him.

"Like I said earlier Noah, just because you're in less than perfect circumstances right now does not give you permission to make comments about my wardrobe."

He shrugs, grinning suddenly, "what you gonna do, spank me?"

"Don't tempt me," she retorts warningly and his laughter follows her out of the room.

She can't help but feel a little pleased that she's managed to make him laugh, to hopefully help brighten his day in some small way. And she has to admit; she's proud of managing to make him laugh more than once- and not just at her expense or because he thinks she's shrill and fun to poke fun at- but because she was _funny_, hilarious even. She doesn't think anyone's ever laughed at any of her attempts at jokes, _ever_, unless it was to imply how very _un_-amusing it was. And obviously she's relieved to see he hadn't any bruises on his face and that he wasn't being threatened from across the room by some burly looking inmate and yes- her expectations are probably a little clouded from viewings of The OC. She wasn't a serious follower but Ben McKenzie had a _wonderful_ presence about him and she did like to watch on occasion; if only for the ahem, _wardrobe_ he used.

She's feeling much better now that she knows Noah is at least surviving in the centre and she knows she's smiling when she climbs back into the car. It has nothing to do with having spent all that time laughing and teasing with Noah; she's just glad her friend is as well as can be expected.

Nothing more.

The only thing marring her quiet contentment is the nagging reminder that Finn lied to her. He lied to her quite easily in fact, and to her face, about his best friend. The tiny box of doubt she keeps locked away that occasionally pushes through to the front of her conscious and screams that Finn will never be right for her, lurches forward as she turns the key in the ignition. Finn _lied_. She hates dishonesty in any form and she knows how angry Finn was when he felt the rest of the Glee club had lied to him about Quinn. Why is she being treated any differently to how he would like to be treated himself?

This trip has been eye opening in many ways; and not just about how much better Noah wears his uniform than Ben McKenzie ever did.

When he crashes onto the lumpy ass piece of crap they call a bed three hours later Puck's willing to admit, at least in his head, that he hasn't gone five seconds without thinking about her since she left. She's messed with his brain or something. He wouldn't put it past her; he would totally not be surprised if she turned out to have freakish ninja angel powers or something. He doesn't even feel that pissed about no-one else turning up- ok yeah he's a little pissed and he's gonna kick Mike's ass come Monday, heh, _come_, but he still can't bring himself to get massively outraged. Outraged? Fuck he's even using words like her. Brain fucking. She is fucking. with. his. brain.

And he's not complaining.

* * *

He doesn't really know why he changes his mind before the turning for the interstate and goes back up the road he's just driven. He's actually pretty fucking pissed at himself; muttering under his breath about what a stupid idea all this is the whole time it takes to pull up the fairly familiar road and stop outside the house last on the left. Some part of him knows that he wouldn't ever forget the directions for this particular drive because they're burned into this brain.

But still, this is a fucking stupid idea.

And yeah ok, so maybe she was the only person to even bother coming to visit him at juvie and maybe, just _maybe_ before that she was something more. But it doesn't really explain why he's sitting in his truck outside her place. Which has a really fucking neat front garden by the way. All trimmed hedges into the shapes of swans and shit; it's kind of tempting to drive into them but you know; recent history and all, it's probably not the best idea. His mom doesn't even know he's got the car now. She's probably on the phone to their Rabbi again, asking him to fix her son. He doesn't need fixing. He needs to get the fuck out of here.

Clearing his throat and rolling his eyes at how lame he's being, he drops out of the car and saunters up her drive. The first week back at school had been a blast, once again fear had returned to the eyes of the nerd brigade and he'd laughed his ass off at the idea of Sam and Quinn, seriously dude, they look like brother and sister. Still she looks all weird and happy and he guesses he wants her to be happy or some shit. It's not like he ever really considered what his life would be like, being with her, it was never option when she was Finn and then when she wasn't... he didn't want it anymore. _She's_ not what he wants. She's the perfect, preachy choir girl he thought was awesome from afar and then she sort of, opened her mouth and he, well, he wasn't so entranced.

It's stupid but he likes the feeling he gets when Rachel talks to him or when he's saying something to her. Like whatever he says, she's listening; not judging or planning what she's gonna pick on him for next. And he gets hypnotised by her voice; her thoughts are like, well they're intense. They all pour out and he picks on the ones he catches and gives his own opinions back and sometimes it pisses her off but sometimes, sometimes he gets that fucking _glorious_ smile he saw back at juvie. And then it's like he's got the basketball court all to himself on a Saturday morning; it's the best fucking feeling in the world. Look shut up, she's just _different_ ok?

Crazy. But different.

And awesome.

The doorbell plays a ridiculous Broadway theme tune when he rings it, different to the last time he was here which was _Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again_- he got a forty minute lecture on its poignancy afterwards so that's how he remembers ok? But this time it's something else he doesn't recognise. Sounds kind of... sad. It matches the way she's looked all week. Her big, gorgeous eyes looking all glazed and glossy with tears all the freaking time and her head ducked low, even in Glee club. It made him want to go kick Finn's ass because just when he thought his ex best friend couldn't get any more fucking stupid, he hurts her even more. Finn, for anyone who's curious, is a total dick.

After a couple of beats he hears her footsteps, don't ask him how he recognises them, and she opens the door. He probably should have been prepared because she's wearing this ballet outfit that is like, skin tight and her hair is pulled into a messy bun thing she rocks so well and she's all flushed and breathless and he... can't fucking breathe. Rachel Berry is almost _too_ hot, it's lucky he's extremely badass or he'd be on the floor about now. Shit like that ballet skirt should be illegal with her legs.

"Noah?"

"Uh," he blinks a couple of times before coughing roughly, "you got a second?"

"Of course," she frowns like maybe she's a little bit confused as to why he's on her doorstep putting demands on her time but he doesn't care; they're doing this. "Do you want to come upstairs? I've just finished my practice so I have a moment before I have to start my homework."

"Yup," he jogs up to her bedroom without any further invitation and once inside looks around for a bag.

When Rachel joins him a few seconds later he's found a purple canvas bag, probably big enough for her to fit inside of and is pulling it out of the closet.

"Noah, what on earth are you doing? And put that down!" She exclaims as he reaches for the pink Care Bear on her bed.

"You're gonna need it," he says, ignoring her complaints and throwing her pjs- some black and lacy shit that he really can't concentrate on right now because _fuck_- and scoops all the toiletries on her dresser into the bag.

"Noah-"

"We're goin' on a trip," he interrupts firmly. "Put a sweater on and do not even think about going outside without some jeans or something and then we're going."

The cute little frown he knows so well has morphed into a proper, _what the fuck are you talking about_ eyebrow raise and she puts her hands on her hips, "I'm not going anywhere with you! What has gotten into you?"

"Look," he shoves the bag down for a second when he realises in his haste to pack up her homework he's trying to get her duvet in there too. "You keep wondering around school lookin' like someone beat up your puppy in front of you and I'm sick of this place so we're blowin' the joint for a bit.."

"I don't-" before she can respond properly he zips up her bag, grabs the nearest pair of shorts he can see- _jeans_, what was he thinking? Rachel probably doesn't even own a fucking pair- and then easily picks her up and throws her over his shoulder. "Noah! Put me down this instant! What do you think you're doing! You're crazy! You're kidnapping me! I'm sure this assault of some sort. Why are you ignoring me, Noah?"

The tirade continues down the stairs and across the yard until she's safely deposited in his car. When he straightens from dropping her in the passenger seat he takes a breath and stops, inches away from her face as he leans on the doorframe.

"You're the only person that gives a crap about me Berry and I happen to have noticed you're not exactly thriving at the moment so I'm doing you a favour."

She stares at him incredulously for a moment, mouth open wide and he smirks, "attractive."

Almost immediately she shuts her mouth and then opens it again, "but I have homework!"

He shrugs, "do it later."

"I hope you packed a pen of some description- and I certainly hope you didn't crease any of my papers- you should have let me do it myself!"

He knows she's in right there.


	2. Something In The Night

**A/N: Thanks for all the alerts guys, it was v exciting to know people are interested. I am taking liberties with the football banter btw, **_**soccer**_** (football for me) is totally more my thing so if Cleveland Browns don't actually get called Browns well then… I apologize! I did try and find out but my Cleveland Browns go to boy wasn't around when I posted this one! Also this might be a tad bit longer than 4 chapters, I wrote it out and well, I want them to do more than I had planned originally so. I hope that's ok!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, I don't own Springsteen or any of his material. I'm just borrowing everything for fun! It will all be returned as good as new. Except for Finn, he might go missing…**

For a few moments there's silence in the car but he knows it won't last. She's far too curious, insatiable almost and hey, he's really not saying that's a bad thing here.

Finally she turns to look at him suspiciously and he tries to keep his face neutral, "don't think I'm not onto you Noah Puckerman."

He smirks, "from what I can tell you're not on me at all babe- you wanna change that?"

She makes a noise of annoyance at the back of her throat, "I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer."

"Suit yourself."

He indicates, overtakes a dumbass who's barely doing the speed limit and hits hard on the gas. Rachel clutches at the dashboard but refuses to say anything; she knows he's only trying to goad her.

"So where are we going?"

She watches him squint in the sun and slip aviators off his head and perch them on his nose, before shrugging, "hadn't thought that far ahead."

"Noah!"

"What? Chill girl, we've got time to figure some stuff out, the joy is in the journey anyway."

"But- don't you have a plan? Where's your itinerary?"

He explodes with laughter and she feels her irritation rise; this time he isn't laughing _with_ her, he's laughing _at_ her. She almost wells up at the thought and feels furious at herself for it. He has such a strange hold over her emotions. But then he glances over, the smile on his face affectionate and she knows she can't really see them but she's pretty sure his eyes are fond. That… Does strange things to her as well. She really does feel out of her depth in his company.

"You seriously think I planned this shit out? I don't write itinerary's Berry; unless it's a checklist of what action I'm planning to get. You can totally help me out with that if you want," he adds, wiggling his eyebrows.

She rolls her eyes, those kind of comments are as normal as breathing to him and she won't let herself feel any sort of thrill over them being directed her way. Loosening her seatbelt slightly- although she would never take it off altogether while the car is moving- she twists and reaches for her bag to examine what he so haphazardly threw in.

Puck takes the opportunity to admire her gymnastic skills- damn that's gonna work in his favour- and the way her legs look super awesome all flexed while she's shifting around. It's kind of distracting.

"Rachel keep still! Fucking hell, m'driving here!"

"I didn't touch you!" She drops back into her seat, her face slightly flushed and glowers at him, "you're going to need to find a store of some sort Noah."

"Why? You got a shit ton of stuff in there, I know, I packed it."

"Yes you did, but while you were casually _tossing_ my belongings into my dance bag you forgot to pack any sort of…" Her cheeks darken into a blush and although he thinks she looks smoking hot most of the time, there's something adorable about how she looks now. Then he remembers she was about to say something and was getting herself worked up about it which must mean-

He leans an elbow on the door frame and turns to grin at her, "what? What did I forget?"

She knows why he's looking so exultant and she won't give him the pleasure of watching her squirm so she sets her shoulders and meets his eyes dead on, "you've forgotten to pack any sort of… undergarments."

There's a moment where his breath hitches and he looks back to the road before smirking, "you know I might have done that on purpose."

"None the less," she says lightly, ignoring the way her face feels excessively hot at his implications, _damn_ him and his comments getting the better of her! "I will need to purchase some, should this trip last longer than a day."

"Wow, planning on spending the night with me so soon? Easy tiger."

She rolls her eyes, "Noah, you're the one who choose to kidnap me," she raises both her eyebrows, "surely that implies you've been wanting to spend time with _me_, not the other way around."

He scoffs and checks his wing mirror before dropping down onto an underpass- what? There's no way he's not gonna double check that shit with Rachel on board. Yeah he'll tease her and piss around but he doesn't want to like, hurt her.

In any way.

He jerks into the nearest parking spot to make up for the ridiculously girly thought he just had and Rachel grabs the dashboard, "Noah!"

"Sorry," he says with a cheeky smile that she knows implies he's not really apologetic at all. She slides out of his ginormous truck, smoothing her skirt down as she does before beginning to walk towards the Wal-Mart.

"Woah woah," Noah jogs in front of her, raising an arm, "where are you going?"

"Into the store!"

"Not like that you're not."

"I hardly think anyone will even notice."

"Sorry babe but you can't go in there dressed like that."

He raises an eyebrow as he looks pointedly at her legs and she flushes before feeling cross at herself for even caring, "it's not your decision to make. You can't tell me what to wear."

"God, you're so damn stubborn!"

"I believe I could say the same thing to you, though in less crude terms," she retorts as she sets off again.

"Fine," he says loftily, smiling as he watches her attempt to storm away and easily catching up in three strides, "don't come crying to me when every guy in there leers at your legs."

The doors swish open and Rachel turns, a dangerous glint in her eyes, "if I do, I suppose I would look something like _you_, begging me to come on this little trip in the first place."

For a moment he's so surprised he can't say anything; then he shakes his head, "low blow Berry."

She bites her lip, her brown eyes filling with remorse and then she scowls when she sees he's trying not to laugh. "You're impossible!"

"You love it," he says smirking and throwing an easy arm around her shoulder- just in case anyone should glance her way and think for even one second that the ridiculously hot ballet skirt might mean she's somehow _available_.

They make their way into the clothing section and Rachel sighs, "will you be hovering over my shoulder while I make my purchases?"

"Yup," he loosens his arm and grabs at a slinky black velvet thing, "I'm gonna help you pick out some stuff. Like this- this is nice right?"

She raises an eyebrow, pretending to consider it, "well for starters I'm about three sizes smaller than that."

He glances down at the dress he's holding and swallows; it looks pretty small to him. "You serious?"

"Yes," she says, smiling with amusement and moving to a rail of tee shirts, "it would be like me choosing something like _this_ for you," she waves a gigantic looking orange tee at him.

He chuckles, "point taken." Damn she really is tiny.

"Precisely, so please, go and amuse yourself elsewhere whilst I try a few things on."

"You can't- you- you're gonna get naked in here?" He thinks maybe that came out as more of a croak and attempts to clear his throat, "can't you just-"

"Noah, what did we agree about you trying to help? Go away!"

She picks out several items just to be difficult and make him wait even longer and heads for the only changing area. She's midway through deliberating over a dark red satin dress that she really can't afford when she hears him clear his throat outside.

"Were there not enough magazines to keep you occupied?"

"Got all this month's good ones already," he says easily and she feels she knows him too well when she can detect the smirk in his voice. It should disturb her more than it does. Especially considering that she never seemed to be able to tell when Finn was lying to her, whether she could see his face or not. She shakes herself; today is not the day to be thinking of Finn. She wants to erase him from her mind, _completely,_ if possible.

"And there were no books that caught your eye?" She pauses for effect and then pokes her head through the curtain to raise an eyebrow at him, "oh wait a moment, who am I kidding?"

He raises both his eyebrows as if accepting some hidden challenge and strides towards her, "you trynna be funny Berry?"

"Noah stop- I might be un-" she loses her words when he pauses millimeters from her face and tilts his head to one side, considering her.

"Might be what?" He prompts, his voice low and soft and his mouth oh so very close.

"Nothing" she huffs before disappearing behind the curtain again.

He rolls his eyes and checks his watch, "'kin hell woman, you only need to try on a freakin' bra, what the hell's takin you so long?" He yanks back the curtain and stops short.

Rachel turns to face him, thanking the Streisand star that she hadn't started taking the dress off a second earlier, "Noah!"

"You buyin' that?" He ignores her protests and barges fully into the dressing room, pushing her gently with one hip to turn her round.

"No, I don't know- Noah, what on earth are you doing?" She tries not to listen to the voice in her head pointing out the fact she is _letting_ him manhandle her, that she is in fact _modeling_ for him.

"Just lookin'."

She almost stamps her foot in frustration; he is _too_ close and looking at her _too_ intensely! "Kindly remove yourself from my personal space _and_ my dressing room at once! If you'd just be patient for one moment longer-"

"You look hot," he declares, cutting her rant short because he knows she could go all day if he let her- heh that's a good one to tell Mike later- "you should buy it. You can wear it tonight."

He leaves her standing in complete shock, watching him slouch off to examine a Zac Efron tee shirt that he promptly shoves to the back to the rack, and feeling completely off balance. It's amazing what he can do with just a few simple words, _compliments_ no less, and a casual touch of his hand to her hip.

She sighs and snaps the curtain shut _loudly_ so that he knows exactly how cross she is with him and throws her old clothes back on. She picks the black bra she tried first and after a moment's deliberation, takes the red dress with her.

She's feeling _reckless_ today.

Noah is very bad for her she decides as she makes her way to the cashier's desk- the aforementioned _devil_ following closely looking far too pleased with himself. She must start behaving herself; perhaps get him to take her home before this gets out of hand. Really she does have to think this through _logically_; she has homework to finish and yes her fathers are away but that doesn't mean she should allow herself to get carried away with the notion of driving _shotgun,_ as Noah would say, with him sitting quietly beside her for miles and miles…

And no, she's being _ridiculous_ and sentimental. Noah has made more than enough lewd comments to let her know exactly why she's been chosen for this little escapade of his. Her mind is made up.

He drops a six pack of cupcakes, a cheese sandwich, an apple and a bottle of water onto the conveyor belt and she glances at him in surprise, he shrugs, "gotta keep you fed."

She stares down at the pink icing swirled into a flower shape on one of the cupcakes and then back up at his lovely face. He _constantly_ surprises her. And when she thinks about it; he's the only person who ever does these strangely thoughtful things for her. He brings her slushies and sings her songs and helps her make ridiculous videos even when there really is _nothing_ in it for him. And he chose her, of all the people in his life, to go on this journey with. And even though he clearly has no idea what he's doing or where he's going, she has to accept that well, she _really_ wants to be going there with him.

It's almost terrifying until he leans forward ever so slightly and meets her eye, concern in his own expression, "what, you want something different?"

"No," she says quickly, "thank you Noah, that was very thoughtful."

"S'no biggie," he mutters, shrugging awkwardly, "don't want you droppin' dead of starvation in my truck. Just don't eat all those cupcakes in one sitting- you've got a dress to fit into."

_Unbelievable_.

Just when she starts thinking he's the sweetest boy in the world he goes and says something like that. She fixes him with a steely gaze and says firmly, "I'm not wearing it out with you tonight; I have a party to attend next week with my fathers and this will do very nicely."

He snorts, "you'll wear it _trust_ me."

"I most certainly will not! And do not!"

The cashier watches them both with weary amusement and hands Rachel her change, "have a nice evening."

"Thank you," Rachel smiles sweetly as Puck grins and wiggles his eyebrows saying "oh we will." He strides off while she garbles apologies and explanations.

Rachel hurries after him across the darkening car park, "Noah!"

"What?"

"You shouldn't have said that!" She tosses her hair back and he takes her bag off her without even thinking about it, "now she's going to think I'm some sort of, _hussy,_ who picks up strange men and buys ridiculous outfits and lingerie in the middle of the day!"

He chuckles as he opens up the truck and throws her bag inside before pushing the door open wider for her to slide in, "hussy? Babe who uses words like that?"

"_I_ do! And stop calling me babe! My name is Rachel."

"Alright, chill out doll face."

"_Not_ any better."

"Whatever, the chick back there didn't care- and besides, it's past six, it's not day anymore, you can buy what you want."

She seems slightly mollified and he takes that as a win.

The setting sun casts a glow in the car and she feels warm and carefree despite the situation probably awaiting them on their return- not thinking about it, _really_ not thinking about it. She opens the window and lets the breeze rush through her hair, laughing in delight.

Noah watches in amusement, "crazy girl," he mutters fondly. Rachel having the freakishly amazing hearing she does reaches over and thumps his arm. He finds it hilarious she actually thinks she could cause him bodily harm and he says as much.

"I could try," she threatens, narrowing her eyes.

He fucking _loves_ this side of her. The one he gets to see tiny flashes of every now and then but seems to be breaking through more and more the further they get from Lima. He flips a cd on and she surprises him by turning up the track.

"I love this song," she says breathlessly as she winds the window back up.

"You know Springsteen?"

"Who doesn't? Even if you can't accept that he's one of the greatest American performers of the last four decades- which he is- you have to admit the lyrics he has produced over the years have been some of the most uplifting, inspiring and heart wrenching of our time."

He blinks, who'd have thought, she's a fucking Springsteen fan girl.

He realizes she's waiting for him to give an opinion and it aint gonna be as good as hers but he shrugs and says, "he just gets it you know? Growin' up somewhere as shit as where we do and nobody giving a crap about you but you've got the music so it doesn't matter. The words are there just for you and whatever the day's got in store for you- and wait wait- this bit-" he mimes the epic keyboard solo and then can't help but sing the words aloud, "_everybody needs a place to rest, everybody needs to have a home, don't make no difference what nobody says, aint nobody like to be alone_." When he turns to her, grinning, he feels like all his clothes just flew out the window or something; she's got such a look of surprise on her face.

"What? I hit a bird while I was rockin' out?"

"No," she says faintly, "I've just never really seen you talk that passionately about something."

He shrugs, still feeling weird, she's looking at him like he's special or something and he just knows he's gonna fuck _that_ up in three seconds flat. "Yeah well, no-one really asks for my opinion on the music we choose for Glee club do they now?"

She bows her head and there it is- he just shouldn't have opened his stupid mouth.

"I had no idea you felt so strongly about it," she says softly. And it feels fuckin' bizzare for her to be getting all sentimental and quiet on him when _Independence Day's_ delicate tones are floating round the car and fuck anyone for judging him cos this song is beautiful and he'll willingly admit it.

He shifts, unsure of what to say but before he can think of something appropriate or whatever her hand is suddenly on his arm, "I'm sorry for my part in that. You really are a wonderful performer Noah and you know a great deal about music and those that produce it. Your voice should be heard."

Her hand is on his arm.

Like seriously, she's being all sincere and they've got like, Springsteen's most honest shit playing here and her _hand is on his arm_ while she's saying this nice stuff to him. Plus there's almost a zero per cent chance this can end with him getting a slushie in the face.

And now her thumb is rubbing circles _on his arm_ that he can feel through his Henley. He can't- he's gonna have to pull over or something cos he might explode and that wouldn't be wise. He spots a MacDonalds drive-thru and thanks his fuckin' Springsteen stars.

"It's alright Berry," he says finally as he makes the turn off, "but I gotta eat something or the lack of food plus us having this precious Hallmark moment might make me lightheaded and I don't think you wanna die in my car."

Rachel lets out a loud sigh like she was hoping for a slightly different response and when he pulls up next to the window and orders the guy serving him gives him a conciliatory look, "your girlfriend want anything man?"

"Nothing," Rachel huffs out, "thank you," she adds smiling sweetly up at him before glowering at Noah once again.

Puck rolls his eyes, grinning slightly as he takes the bag, "thanks man."

"No problem," the guy winks and nods at Rachel, who's staring out of the window at the fake hedges, "good luck!"

Once they're back on the freeway he checks out the information on the nearest board, makes a couple of snap decisions and calculates some times in his head. It's looking pretty sweet if he's honest. He's got awesome food, good tunes and a seriously hot chick in his ride, granted said hot chick isn't speaking to him currently but he's Noah Fucking _Puckerman_, and they don't call him that for nothing. If Rachel were listening to his thoughts she'd probably point out that no-one actually _does_ call him that but whatever.

"Rachel," he begins as _Something In The Night_ starts up and he can't help but feel that this is supposed to be some sort of "moment." Like a proper one, of his choosing, with MacDonalds and everything.

She inhales and then turns to look him at slowly, arching an eyebrow, "yes Noah?"

"Shit look, I'm sorry alright? I didn't mean to piss you off; you know me. I'm not good with the- you know- the-"

"Anything remotely close to being _emotional_," she finishes drily for him.

He nods, "yeah that. And it's cool, thanks and everything, for sayin' that. And for coming. Today, last week…" He resists the basic urge to make a joke because he seriously wouldn't put it past her to jump from the car- just to make her storm off as dramatic as possible.

She holds his gaze and he tries to keep his own as steady as possible without you know, running them off the road cos he's not Seeley Booth here but this is important and shit.

Finally, _finally_ she gives him a small smile and turns the volume up whilst simultaneously helping herself to one of his fries, "I do mean it you know."

"I know," he says seriously, trying to slap her hand away from the bag, "but get your own fries!"

"I can't now- we've gone past- and seriously Noah," now that she's talking to him again she's all animated and twisting in her seat excitedly, it's all kinds of adorable, except not, obviously, cos he's a guy and doesn't think shit like that. "Where are we _going_? And do we have appropriate accommodation for the evening?"

He laughs; the weight of her silence lifting off his shoulders and _fuck_ that's way too metaphorical for his brain, he's got to stop thinking like her. Got to stop letting her get inside his brain and messing with his vocabulary. "Rachel!" He pats her leg and she stops bouncing it up and down immediately, he hears her suck in a sharp breath… and then she carries on like nothing happened.

Something _did_.

He knows it did. She's breaking out in goose bumps and he can feel his pulse skyrocketing at the reaction. He pulls his hand away in a not so casual fashion and thinks briefly that his fourteen year old self had more skill.

"We're going to Cleveland."

"Cleveland?" Rachel repeats flatly. Her face is less than impressed.

It's difficult not to smile when she looks so obviously disappointed, "Noah I was in Cleveland less than two months ago."

"Yeah I know but- wait- what? What were you doing in Cleveland?"

She sighs, picking at the car seat and he laughs, pulling her hand away, "Rachel what were you doing in Cleveland?"

"I was at a Browns game ok?"

He doesn't know whether to laugh at the fact she supports Brown or cry because shit this girl really is perfect.

"It's ok to admit Berry, the first step is accepting you have a problem, or that your whole team has a problem in general. It's called losing."

"Oh shut up, I suppose you support Cincinnati?"

"Hell no, I'm a Raven's man through and through."

She rolls her eyes, "how refreshing, a man who supports a team miles from his home turf purely because they win."

"Yeah but come on, we kicked your _ass_ last time we played you."

"We weren't exactly on best form."

"You're right," he nods seriously, before grinning wickedly, "remind me again, when the last you _were_ on best form was?"

She's muttering something about wringing his neck and supporting the _home_ team again and he shakes his head in amusement, following the road signs for Toledo.

"When you're done proving your point over there-"

"Oh I have several arguments for you believe me-"

"I'm sure you do doll face but could you just pass me my hoodie for now? 'Kin freezing over here."

"Put your window up then!" She remonstrates with him but begins to pass him the hoodie anyway. He tuts, "holding another team's sportwear Rach, that's gotta be disloyalty of the highest order. Someone should come take away your special Browns pin."

Her eyes flash dangerously and then she squirms round in her seat _again_ -and jesus he's gonna have to get her a booster seat or something, _anything_ to keep her still- and throws his hoodie deep into the back.

"The hell?"

She smiles sweetly at him and then offers up her own sweater, some pink monstrosity with purple bows, "silly me, I'm _sorry_ Noah, you can wear this if you like?"

He scowls and hits the gas. He should be pissed but honestly? He's just too fucking proud of her.

_The Promised Land_ fills the car and neither of them say anything- he'd rather shoot himself in the foot than admit it and she doesn't want him to laugh at her for being corny- but they're both thinking the same thing; this feels like the start of something good.

_Blow away the dreams that tear you apart,_

_Blow away the dreams that break your heart,_

_Blow away the lies that leave you nothing but lost and broken hearted._


	3. Let's Be Friends, Skin To Skin

**A/N: Sorry for the delay to anyone who is reading, thanks for my reviews guys!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee (Lauren, Finn and Quinn would have all left) and i don't own Springsteen- if i did instead of just talking about him on Glee, i would have them cover him!**

They drive for an hour. Springsteen floats in and out on the air and Puck mixes it up with a little bit of Led Zep- which she actually hums along to and he almost drives off the road in surprise- and Foo Fighters- cos it aint a road trip if you haven't got _All My Life_ playing at some point. Rachel is less than impressed with the Foos. When she switches off _Low_ Puck vows to find a song by them that doesn't make her lip curl up like that.

"S'your problem?"

"It was a little overpowering, that's all."

He scoffs, "you never heard your own voice before?"

She doesn't know whether that's a compliment or a criticism so she attempts to ignore it. "There's nothing wrong with a powerful voice Noah; I just didn't like the way that song built and built in such a droning tone and led to nothing. I felt like I was pointlessly drowning."

He rolls his eyes, "it's not that bad."

"You and I share very different opinions on what is classed as bad."

"You got that straight," he mutters, thinking of the way Finn has treated her from basically the first fucking moment they met. And yeah, Puck can admit he's no Prince but damn if since joining Glee, he hasn't always tried to show her some respect.

He breathes a sigh of relief when he spots a red neon sign advertising a bar and he pulls off immediately. Rachel shifts from where she's been dozing against the window and he does not, he repeats he _does not_, find her utterly adorable looking all sleepy and peaceful.

"Did we need to stop for gas?"

He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, "naw I just need a break you know?"

"Are we stopping for the night?"

The joke's been made he knows but just the idea that he will actually be spending the night with her- hopefully in a motel with no twin rooms left- makes his stomach curl with excitement and nerves and he curses himself immediately for being such a pansy.

"Need a drink," he says, avoiding confirming their plans yet again and cracks his neck as he gets out of the car.

"Noah," Rachel admonishes, "that's awfully bad for your joints."

Without another word she reaches up and beings massaging the bottom of his neck. He jumps a mile, "christ woman warn a guy when you're gonna do that!"

She pouts and puts her hands on her hips and he hasn't seen her look at him like this in a while- like she's frustrated at how stupid he's being- it doesn't make him feel on top of the world to realize that.

"I was merely going to see if I could work out some of the tension; you've been driving for hours."

He can't have her putting her hands all over him in public- he won't cope. Instead he gives her a dirty grin and deflects, "trust me babe, you can help me work out the tensions elsewhere any time," he leers as he opens the door of the joint for her. He knows she won't take him up on the offer.

Yet.

She doesn't know why she keeps letting him get away with saying things like that to her. She's well aware that in a purely physical way, he's attracted to anything in two legs and a skirt so she has that criteria easily covered. What she still wants to know is why _her?_ Why of all the girls at McKinley was she the one he chose to up sticks and run with? But she can't ask; she doesn't want to ruin whatever's going on here with serious questions. Especially when she might not like his answers.

They head for the bar, he keeps one hand firmly on her lower back the entire time- yeah she might not be his girl but that doesn't mean he's gonna give anyone fucking permission to try and get in there- and he gestures to the bartender.

"Whaddya want Rach?"

She's eyeing the dirty countertop dubiously and he smirks like he knows what she's thinking so to prove him wrong she leans on it casually with one elbow and smiles sweetly up at the bartender, "could I please have a shot of Bourbon?"

The guy doesn't even blink, just spins around, tossing the rag he was using to wipe the same glass continuously into the corner and drops a glass and the bottle in front of her. He pours, makes one up for himself, toasts them and chugs it back before looking at Puck.

"For you?"

Puck's kind of distracted by the sight of Rachel downing a fucking shot of Bourbon; her gorgeous throat all tilted back and exposed while she swallows and-

"What are you having man?"

He blinks and turns to the bar guy, "oh shit sorry, just gemme another glass would you please?"

The bar is a little dingy and frankly she doesn't want to know how old the poor stuffed eagle above the fireplace is but strangely, she likes the feel of the place. She feels at ease here, anonymous; no-one judging her for her hair, her clothes, her voice, even her _existence_ and there's a Seger song in the background reminding her of being six and sitting on her daddy's knee listening to Against The Wind for the first time. However she suspects mostly the feeling of contentment comes from the line of warmth Noah provides as he gently leans his arm against hers.

"So you're into football huh?"

"I enjoy watching it being played well yes."

"And yet you support Brown's?"

He lets out a whistle and she rolls her eyes, "they're better than the McKinley High football team."

"Ouch baby," he clutches at his chest, "hitting me where it hurts." He drops his hands, "that team's a pile of shit."

"Come on now," she teases, "they can' t be all bad if _you_ play for them."

He raises an eyebrow in warning at her and then shrugs, "one dude can't carry a whole team- hell I bet you get that."

"That… Is dangerous territory," she declares, pouring them both another shot- the bartender doesn't even seem to notice- "let's not talk about Glee tonight Noah; please."

As if he'd ever fucking say no to her when she's basically begging him with her big pretty eyes.

"Whatever you want." He takes the shot, grinning over the top of it at her as he does so.

She ignores the fluttering in her stomach that appears as their eyes meet and she knows he meant that to be taken in more than one way. Damn his innuendos!

They don't talk about Glee. Instead, they argue.

But it's not the kind of argument she's used to with anyone else; where she gets called names and people tear her down like it's their reason for breathing; it's Rachel and Noah arguing. The kind that comes with a giant helping of sarcasm and teasing but ultimately underneath it all there's the weird affection she can't quite put her finger on. Is he her friend? Are they more than that? Does she even _want_ that with someone else right now? Does he? The questions added to trying to keep up with Noah's banter means she downs more than her fair share of alcohol.

They argue about anything and everything.

They argue about Superman versus Batman (Rachel likes that Clark will do the right thing and always saves the girl, Puck thinks there's no-one else in the fucking _world _more badass than Bruce Wayne). They argue about the pros and cons of being a Jewish kid growing up in Lima- she's got a pretty damn good point when she mentions quietly that although they've both had missing parents they've never lacked in people trying to feed and coddle them over the years at temple and other events. The school system; he's all for it ending at fourteen, she vehemently disagrees (although he does kind of sway her when he points out _she_ knew what she wanted to do at fourteen and by having to stick around she had to take three more years of the Gleeks and the rest of school treating her like crap instead of working towards her dream in somewhere like New York). They fight about Myspace; he fucking wishes she'd take down that ridiculous page of hers so that a) jackasses at school lose a source of mockery and b) he doesn't walk around wondering who else is staring at her creepily late at night. He doesn't say all this, he just tells her Myspace is dumb and lets her go crazy with all the reasons why it's not. He's still gonna find a way to change her password and start sending replies to all the bitches who spam her with insults. But what she doesn't know won't hurt her. They argue about the little stuff like Oreos versus Reeses and he thinks it's kind of awesome that she admits she eats them in the first place considering all the stuff she's spewed out in the past about dolphin fucking friendly spinach. And they fight about the big stuff like marriage (she's for it, he's… indifferent), nuclear power (for some reason it riles her up like crazy and she spills about three shots slamming her glass down to emphasize a point).

It's fucking distracting. He's kinda glad he switched to beers while she ploughed on ahead with the heavy stuff, just so that he can remember her like this. He _did_ suggest she had a beer or two instead but this was met with a serious warning glare and he held up his hands, conceding. He's not her father- either of them- and if she wants to drink her shit away then he'll just pick her up afterwards.

The only thing they seem to really agree on is when they accidently fall into a conversation about children. She's midway through a rant about how there's nothing really suitable on television for the children she babysits, especially these days, and he shrugs and says "fuck it man my kids'll be growing up on all the old school shit anyway- that's where it's always gonna be at."

She blinks in surprise, caught off guard, "you- you want children?"

He shrugs, "hell yeah, a sprog or two would be cool I guess, when I'm ready." It still kind of kills him to think he has no control over where his own _daughter_ will learn all her pop culture from and he hopes to god it's not teletubbies or some shit like that. He's gonna be _so_ fucking ready next time. Maybe actually be doing all the things his mom wants him to do; acting responsible, having a place to live, being with a good woman. He won't admit it but the face in the picture he's imagining for this future scenario is Rachel's and it's almost laughable to even think she'd ever _consider_ having her kids with the guy who used to slushie her and basically kidnapped her today.

But then she smiles and nods, "I want lots. A big family would be nice."

For once, he agrees, he knows it would have been almost impossible to make ends meet but having another sibling, maybe an older brother- someone to talk shit out with- would have been pretty cool. "Yeah loads sound good." He ponders for a second, "maybe like five."

She laughs, "that's a lot!"

He shrugs, "if you're gonna do something, do it all the way right? Besides, it'd be fun trying to hit that kinda figure." He doesn't know whether she misses the innuendo or she's just too drunk to care but she doesn't chastise him either way.

"You'd be a good father Noah; fun but scary when you needed to be."

He's completely surprised by the way she informs him, all business- like she's considered it, weighed up the pros and cons- and actually _truly_ believes he'd make a good dad. His throat feels awkwardly tight, "shit Rach, that JD's makin' you spout all kinds of weird ass theories."

She pouts, "Noah! Why do you always have to be so down on yourself?"

"I'm not," he says hotly, "just- fuck being _fun_ isn't a good quality for a dad, is it?"

"Of course it is! Noah you want your kids to grow up _loving_ you, not resenting you. You'd teach them all sorts of tricks that'd drive me insane and no doubt I wouldn't be able to watch when you introduced them to quad bikes."

He's staring at her, unsure as to whether she realizes she's talking, _loudly_, about some idea she has in her head about them two of them raising kids. And then she starts giggling, "Finn would make a terrible father. He'd never know when to have a backbone and when to discipline or when to actually listen. Did you know he once told me, to my face, that he thought I was boring?"

Something flashes in his gut that feels like the desire to want to go and kick Hudson's ass even more than he already does and he shakes his head, leaning closer, "you're anything but boring Berry."

"Hmmm," she smiles warmly up at him and he suddenly realizes their positioning. Over the course of the evening they've marked themselves off a corner and he's barred them from the rest of the place; making their own private little world by shoving one elbow up against the wall and leaning in to talk to her. She's not even half in her stool anymore, basically standing between his legs and somehow during the course of the conversation he's unconsciously started playing with band of her skirt, thumb accidently brushing against skin every so often and he can see it's making her shiver.

_Fuck _he wants her, maybe more than he's ever wanted anyone or anything (including a life size Star Wars Storm Trooper- oh fuck off like everyone doesn't secretly want one) _ever_.

But he can't take it like this. Not after a crazy, road rush of hot evening air and Springsteen and alcohol infused blood. He needs to know she's just as into this as he is. He needs to know she's not gonna be thinking about Finn halfway through or that she'll wake up in the morning and regret it.

"I never slept with him," she says suddenly, breaking him away from his entirely too girly thinking.

"Who?" He asks, taking a minute to drag back to the present.

"Finn!"

"Oh. Ok, you uh- you didn't?"

"No, I was waiting for him to build up some confidence," she sighs, "he didn't really know what he was _doing_ in that area. Not like some." Her eyes flick to his and he knows what she's saying, knows how he could take it.

But he can't. She's drunk and he- she might be the only person in the world who bothers to _listen_ when he talks. He can't fuck it up.

"Let's get some sleep," he says softly, standing up off his stool and towering over her.

She stares up at him, confused. Wasn't it like, eight pm a few minutes ago?

He laughs and she realizes she must have voiced her incredulousness aloud.

"Alcohol does that to you Berry."

"I am not inhebriated!"

"Inebriated babe."

"That is atrociously what I said!"

"Exactly."

"Precisely!" Someone should film this for when she's famous and he can use it as blackmail to wind her up and make her admit on tv that Noah Puckerman is the hottest guy she's ever met or he'll release it to the masses. He pays the bill- fuck they drank quite a lot- and drops a careful arm around her shoulders; for whatever reason she falls kinda quiet after that.

She can't quite manage to put one foot in front of the other properly and honestly, it's completely unthinkable that she should be beehiving like this.

"Behaving,"

"Excuse me?"

"Stop trying to think Berry, you keep vocalizing."

"How are you still forming sentences?"

He chuckles and it comes out low and rumbling, vibrating against her shoulder where she's leaning into him, "got stamina," he says quietly. She shivers and inadvertently he pulls her closer. Honestly she's a little surprised he's letting her invade his personal space like this; when it's not in an attempt to seduce her he normally keeps physical contact to a minimum. In the past it's been her taking all the mini steps forward, catching his wrist, slipping her arm through his, an occasional hand on the knee, but now... Now something's happening and she's too drunk to figure out what it is.

Just as she's trying to form some sort of conclusion she trips on something in the dark and feels herself slip forward, "oh!"

He catches her easily, hands shooting out to grab her elbows as she stumbles, "shit, easy Berry."

"My hero," she giggles into his chest and his stomach clenches at the feel of her lips against his tee shirt. She staggers over her own feet and oofs in surprise.

"Yeah this aint happening," he states before ducking and sweeping her legs up from under.

"Noah!" She flails for a second, hands batting in his face and searching for purchase before one goes around his neck and the other pushes her hair from her face. She's so damn sexy, even when she's accidently trying to give him a black eye. "Noah I can walk!"

"Clearly you can't," he retorts, striding in the direction of the motel beside the bar. Thank fuck, he hadn't even checked to see if there was one close by.

The motel is a dirty white with pink striped awning drifting in tatters above them. Rachel lolls against his shoulder, humming softly under her breath and he nudges her, "don't go to sleep on me doll; I'm not a pillow, whatever my awesome pecs might imply."

"They _are_ comfy," she giggles.

He raises an eyebrow at her, glancing down and trying to ignore how close she is, "you calling me fat?"

"If you fit the shoe," she frowns, "no that's not right."

Chuckling he lowers her to the ground, letting his hand slide down her back just to keep her steady, "I'll let you think about phrasing and shit while I go get a room."

She blinks and looks around like she hasn't been taking in their surroundings, "are we staying here?" Her nose wrinkles up and he thinks it's hilarious that even trashed, Rachel Berry has taste about where she goes to bed.

"You see any four star resorts round here?" She sighs and then flops onto the rickety chair outside the lobby. He takes that as consent, "don't go anywhere."

She tips her head back to look at him, narrowing her eyes, "and just where would I be going Thelma?"

He snorts, "even I were cool with that reference, there's no way I'm Thelma, I got years of experience on that girl." He winks at her and she shivers. And it's not the implication of his words or the way he makes something as cheesy as winking look attractive; there's just a chill in the air.

Nothing about the way he walks, his back or the way he glances over his shoulder to check she's still there is sexy either. She groans and squeezes her eyes shut; she should _not_ be thinking these kind of things about Noah.

The guy behind the desk doesn't even blink at Puck's slightly drunk stagger or the wasted chick intensely examining the weeds coming out of the wall outside, just tells him to keep the noise down, takes his money and tosses him a key.

He kind of loves the people who live here.

Swinging the key he crouches in front of a dozing Rachel and resists the urge to reach out and push his fingers through her hair or the lone curl from her face, instead he touches her wrist and she starts.

"Up and at 'em sleeping beauty."

She sighs crossly, "I was having a good dream you know."

"Yeah," he says with a grin, "I bet."

"It wasn't about you!" Her face heats up, "it was- about flying."

He snorts, "good cover."

They semi walk/trip their way to number eight and with a slight shove of his hip he gets the door open. When he flicks the light he immediately regrets it.

"Wow."

Rachel blinks against the harsh light and then her jaw drops, "oh my god, what is this?"

"This is what you get for thirty bucks babe."

"No, Noah, I cannot stay here."

He turns and fold his arms across his chest, "you wanna sleep in the car?"

"I-" she pulls a face at the murky looking carpet, the dust covering the bedside table and then at the bed itself. "Perhaps the car _would_ be more hygienic, even if it is yours."

Scoffing he drops the key on the only chair in the room and gestures at the bed, "knock yourself out kid, this is it. I'm gonna go get the bags from the car."

"Wait Noah! Don't leave me here by myself!"

"What do you think's gonna happen? You scared Jason's lurking in the shadows?"

She scowls, "of course not, I might be a girl Noah but I'm not afraid of fictional movie characters."

"Then what are you afraid of?"

There's a beat and he moves closer to her, eyes seeking out hers, "you think I'm gonna ditch out on you or something?"

"No!" She wraps her arms around herself, "I just don't want to be by myself."

He rolls his eyes, "'kin hell!" He turns around and gestures with his arms, "hop on."

"I don't-"

"Get on my back Rachel or I swear to god I'll go ask the dude at the office to come and babysit you."

She begins to clamber on gingerly, "you should be warned that I weigh-"

He hoists her legs around his waist, effectively cutting off the rest of her sentence as she tilts forwards, "yeah I can't even tell you're up there."

Which yeah that's a lie because he can feel _every single _place her body is touching his but whatever, he feels like she'd probably somehow manage to twist him saying that into implying she's fat.

By the time they're back to the room- that unfortunately had not been swept clean by Rachel's fairy godmother; some soppy part of her heart could point out that the lady outdid herself sending Noah but she's still kind of cross about having to sleep on the flea bed in front of her so, no forgiveness just yet it's past three and she's exhausted.

She changes in the gloomy bathroom, trying to avoid touching either the cracked basin or whatever might be living in the bath and brushes her teeth. When she comes out Noah's chosen her side of the bed and for a moment she thinks about arguing him for it. Then she thinks about all the things he's done for her today and decides against it.

There's a brief pause when she opens the bathroom door and he was fucking right to be worried about the sleep stuff he packed her this morning. It's some black lace vest thing and satin shorts and he can't fucking breathe when he looks over at her.

He notices she's shivering and leans over his side for the sweater he abandoned on the floor, "you want it?"

"I'm fine," she says awkwardly, placing one knee on the bed and sweet christ he can't watch her climb onto bed, that he's lying on, this slowly, wearing what she's wearing. He tosses it at her, "it'll keep the bed bugs out."

She tugs it over her head and shakes her hair out; she can feel his eyes on her the whole time and it's not an unpleasant sensation.

"Thank you," she says softly, pushing at the nearest pillow, "for everything today Noah."

He shrugs up one shoulder, "s'no biggie- it's not like there was anybody else I was gonna take along."

"Oh," she laughs, "so I was a last resort?"

He leans his head to one side to meet her eye as she sinks down the bed, "you already know the answer to that Rachel. If I'd wanted to take anyone else along for the ride, I would have done."

She yawns, "kidnapped."

"Hmmm?"

"Kidnapped," she says with a soft smile as she closes her eyes, "you didn't take me for a ride," jesus she says this stuff without thinking he's sure, she's trying to kill him. "You kidnapped me."

"You didn't wanna come then?"

"Don't be silly, if I'd have wanted to I could have defended myself against your actions several times, I just chose not to react violently."

He chuckles, "you know how to throw a mean right hook huh?"

"Something like that."

Without another word she slides right up against him, "um, Rach?"

"Shut up, you're warm and if the bed bugs come, they'll eat you first."

Well, the girl's logic is pretty flawless. And who is he to complain when she's all freaking curled up against him and shit- what the fuck's he supposed to do with his hands? He can't frigging spoon her, he can't turn around or she'll get weird, he's kind of stuck here, leaning up against the headboard while she's basically asleep against his shoulder.

Finally he just shuffles down, keeping his arms across his stomach and then nudges off the light with his elbow.

"Noah?"

He shifts in the darkness to turn and look at her, "yeah?"

"Where are we going tomorrow?"

It's all kinds of awesome to think that she's staying in the shittiest motel in the world with him, on a school night, and she doesn't want to go home.


	4. Wreck Out On The Highway

**A/N. I don't know why but I found this chapter was awkward or weird (IDK) to write, I'm still not sure how I feel about it tbh but I wanted to post it because then I can move onto the next one which was way easier lol.**

He opens one eye lazily and frowns immediately. He's staring at an empty pillow and a thrown back sheet. He sits up, suddenly alert, "Rach?"

There's a silence and he swears, where the fuck's she's decided to go? His stomach drops as he takes in her lack of shoes and _Defying Gravity_ rings out in the small room when he tries calling her cell. Muttering to himself he yanks on his own sneakers, grabs his keys and bangs out of the door.

"Rachel?" He glances around the dirty ass car park and scowls when he gets no response, he's beginning to seriously rethink the jokes about Jason waiting on them last night. What if someone's got her?

A zombie?

Jason X?

_Finn_.

The last thought actually makes him feel the most sick.

And what if she left last night when she was all drunk and crazy? What if she hitched a lift with some horny creeper? Or someone came in and took her? Granted he's not a massively heavy sleeper and he's willing to bet Rachel would have screamed her head off if she was being dragged somewhere but what if she'd been unconscious? What if he'd been drugged?

And why the _fuck _is he being such a girl about all this? He's used to girls _not _being there when he wakes up; hell normally he prefers it that way. But this is different- and not just because they're on the road in the middle of nowhere together. But because she's all in his head and under his skin and he doesn't like thinking she's gone, or that he might maybe miss her with something like a constant ache in his head if he doesn't find her.

He's got a shit load of missed calls and messages from other contacts listed as he scrolls through just looking for one from Rachel. He ignores them all. Frankly he doesn't give a fuck if Sam tripped over his own shoe lace and hit Artie on the back of his head with his guitar or if Santana's bored in third period now he's gone. He cares about finding the only person who _hasn't _text him or left him voicemails in the last twenty four hours.

He rounds the back of the motel and stops dead.

"Christ _Rachel_!"

She's sitting on the edge of what has to be the most disgusting looking pool he's ever seen- and he's seen a lot of crap cleaning them over the summer. But this one takes the cake. There's a trolley in one end, a teddy bear's head, beer bottles, a plastic table, about three umbrellas, a mop, a couple of footballs and grime up the sides. Her hair's covering most of her face as she swings her legs over about a meter of gross, muddy water and she looks freaking _adorable_ practically drowning in his sweater and very little else.

He's irrationally pissed off considering she's alive but fuck she scared the shit out of him and he strides towards her crossly, "what the hell?"

"Good morning to you too Noah," she says quietly, glancing up with a small smile.

"Good morning? Rachel you fucking disappeared- I thought you'd been kidnaped by King fucking Kong!"

She raises her eyebrows, "that would be highly improbable don't you think?"

"Yeah but- you know- I- look you can't do shit like that," he says finally, scrubbing a hand through his hair, "what if your dad's had sued?"

"Well that depends, did I leave of my own free will or did someone _else _kidnap me?"

He grins, anger slowly dissipating, "shut up, you wouldn't have liked it if I'd disappeared."

"No that's true," she says quietly, "I apologise."

Her eyes glaze over and his anger dissipates when he realizes he's got _thoughtful _Rachel and he stops a couple of feet away from her, "what are you doing out here?"

She lifts up one shoulder casually and narrows her eyes as she looks at him, "I was just thinking."

He snorts and sits down next to her, the morning air just this side of chilly, "crappy place to be getting philosophical Rach."

They're silent for a second and she kicks her legs out, pointing her toes. He's fascinated by the way her legs just kinda go on and on and she's got this pretty pink nail varnish on- shut up, he just _notices _shit like that with her- and her toes look cute which is weird cos toes aren't normally a thing for him but-

"Did you hear what I said Noah?"

He blinks, dragging his gaze from her feet, "uh yeah, um," he hazards a guess, "you're cold?"

She bites her lip, smiling, "no I said are you hungry?"

"Oh!" He grins, leans back on his hands, "I'm always hungry."

"I believe you," she says fondly. She can't help it, he looked so cross and worried when he came hurtling around the back of the motel shouting her name and then so relieved when he'd spotted her; it had kind of taken her breath away. She hadn't meant to creep out and scare him but she's _always _awake at six am sharp, no matter what she's done the previous night and she was getting restless by half past. There wasn't any paper or even a television in the room and she'd not wanted to wake him… He'd looked so content and peaceful, arm curling over the spot where she'd been sleeping; she'd had to get out just to avoid leaning over and touching him.

They look at one another for a second and she can feel the intensity of his gaze, even as she turns away.

"Rach," and the note of concern in his voice makes her shiver. He hesitates, seemingly wrestling with something in his head and then he repeats her name and asks, "are you ok?"

The tile beneath her comes away easily as she picks at it and she doesn't respond; concentrating on turning up the blue plastic instead of meeting his eyes. His hand stills hers and she's caught off guard, "I'm fine." He scoffs and she sighs, tilting her head back and considering her words, "I feel a little bit like I'm at a crossroad."

Noah's eyebrows raise, "well we _are_ on the road at the moment."

She rolls her eyes at him and he smirks but then his face falls more serious, "no I get that."

"But you don't, not really. You aren't like me Noah; you don't ever put yourself first." He thinks maybe he should protest at that but she doesn't give him a chance to interrupt. "But I- I just want _so_ much out of life. I know I'm selfish, really I do."

"_Rachel_-"

"And I _know_ what everyone says about me. I _do_ want things to be about me but I feel like… If I don't push for things then I'll sink! I'll never get what I need to rise above everything else. You know that if Mr Schuster had his way we'd sing classic eighties rock every week and I'll _die_ on that stage wearing trainers and a shirt that compliments everyone else's, singing to people who pretend to be my friend but secretly wish I'd trip and fall on my face! I don't want that Noah. I don't want to blend in; I want to stand out."

"You _do_," he says softly.

"But I don't think everyone else understands that I want them to do well too. I truly want us to succeed as a team but every time I-" she stops and shrugs, "every time I even make a _suggestion _they have something prepared about what a ridiculous waste of space I am- about how much I let them all down so, so what's the point of trying?"

Puck doesn't know what to say; she has a fucking point. Not one member of their group ever really seems to put themselves out there to let Rachel know she's doing a good job or that she's appreciated and despite the fact they were all supposed to be a team, no strike that, Shuh always claimed they were a freaking _family_, the more Rachel commented on how underappreciated she felt, the more she became isolated. So yeah, what the fuck _was_ the point of trying to keep going in a family that acted like they didn't really want you but kept you because on occasion they figured they needed you?

His head hurts trying to figure out an answer for her and shit he can't believe she's been dealing with all this for months. No wonder she does the whole storm out thing so much. And yeah hey, she doesn't help herself sometimes but jesus, no-one else is helping her out either. Not even Finn will ever stand up for her. It makes him want to pound that kid's face in even more.

Finally he leans to the side and bumps his shoulder gently against hers, "none of the greats had it easy Rach. You don't want your life story to read, _throughout high school everybody loved her and she never learnt anything_. You need the hard shit to keep you tough."

She huffs out a laugh and rests her head against the shoulder he hasn't moved, "but what if I'm not tough?"

He grins and looks down at the top of her head, "what are you kidding? It takes a lotta nerve to tell Noah Puckerman to do anything- and you boss me around all the time!"

"That is true," she says with amusement, "but that might because I'm not afraid of you. You make everything less scary really."

"Yeah," he raises one eyebrow at her, "I have that effect on people; from far away I look like a total badass but up close I'm all soft and understanding and I write poetry and talk about my feelings and-" she shoves at his arm.

"Alright stop it! You're a total jerk and you can stay that way if you want." She stands and tugs on his sweater, pinching his arm, "can we please go and get some coffee?"

"Ouch yeah woman," he bats her hand away, "just so long as you stop that. Christ I swear by the end of this trip I'ma be all black and blue."

She sticks her bottom lip out and clutches her hands together, mocking him and he reaches out to flick her just as she dodges out of his way, dancing backwards, "poor baby- getting beaten up by a girl."

"Shush your mouth," he dives at her again and she shrieks before darting to the side, sticking her tongue out. He shakes his head, "mistake Rachel. You wanna play this game? Cos I'm unbeatable."

She puts a hand on her hip and cocks her head, "oh really? Last one back to the room pays for breakfast."

And before he can argue or suggest anything different she sets off across the shitty backyard and disappears round the front, "what the fuck?" He yells, sprinting after her, "cheat!"

"Oh deal with it Puckerman," she tosses behind her as she sails towards the door. She's fast for someone with such tiny legs and with the head start he has no hope of catching up but he doesn't quit. He runs right at her when she starts jumping up and down in celebration outside their door and catches her round the waist and powers on through. They stumble down the open corridor for a moment, breathless, until they finally come to a halt.

"You cheated," he mutters in her ear.

She turns, her face hot from running and his close proximity, "I gave you fair warning," she says easily, "sometimes that's all you get Noah- your reflexes should be faster."

He swats at her lazily, "watch it, I could leave you here you know."

"Perhaps I could make a living working at the establishment from last night," she muses as he opens the door.

He snorts, "I don't think they'd have you back babe- you uh kinda got up on the counter and danced around like a moron."

Her mouth drops open in horror, "I did _not_!"

"Yup- sang an entire album of _ABBA_ songs too."

"I didn't- you can't possibly-"

"Psych," he interrupts, grinning at her. For a second she doesn't move and he strolls into the room satisfied that he's _finally_ got her.

* * *

They don't have much crap to repack and he throws it all in the truck while she examines a map outside the motel.

He leans over her shoulder to read it, although he's not sure what she's looking for, he knows where they're headed and eventually he pulls away because he's finding the urge to just lean forward and kiss her cheek or something, _really_ strong.

"Get your ass in the truck Berry."

She clucks her tongue at his command but despite herself, clambers into the truck.

They only drive for about a quarter of an hour before he pulls over and grabs her hand on a whim, tugging her into the diner he's spotted.

"Oh man I need like five coffees yesterday."

She's trying not to begin overanalyzing him holding her hand and forgets to comment until they're sitting down and both her hands are safely back in her lap. Her phone beeps and she jumps, she'd almost forgotten there was other life out there.

Puck raises an eyebrow as she glances down at her cell and he sees her frown, "who's that?"

She rolls her eyes and shoves her phone back into the depths of the pocket of Noah's hoodie, "Mercedes. She demanded to know why I haven't been in rehearsals as they needed someone to tell Mr Schuh that we can't do a _Queen_ number. She feels that it would be tacky after Vocal Adrenaline have already done one themselves."

Puck shrugs, "she can tell him so herself."

"I can't text her that back!"

"Sure you can," he gestures, "gimme, I'll do it."

"No," she laughs, her heart feeling lighter suddenly; she doesn't owe these people anything and even if she isn't ready to say it to them, she's touched Noah would do it for her.

"Fine," he grins, "I'll just jack it off you later when you least expect it."

"Yes that's you," she says, narrowing her eyes teasingly, "a stealthy ninja."

He sticks his tongue between his teeth as he grins, "you know it." The waitress shimmies over and breaks up the staring match they've begun and Noah groans with relief, "coffee!" Rachel tries to distract herself from thinking how attractive he'd looked smiling at her like that and stirs the lemon in her hot water.

Puck scrunches up his nose, "the hell did you order that for?"

"It's good for me."

"It looks like it tastes like shit."

This is more familiar territory and for a few minutes they bicker about healthy food options versus things people actually _like_ to eat.

When Noah's pancakes arrive he wiggles his eyebrows at her as she eyes them over her own choice; bran cereal. She caves and sticks her fork in one of his syrup covered pancakes two minutes later and moans at how good it is.

Puck's pretty sure she has no idea what she sounds like and if it were anybody else he'd be castrating them for eating his food but damn something about her doing it so easily- like they take food off each other's plates all the time- paired with the blatant sex noises she's making means he doesn't have the power to _speak_, let alone act outraged.

"You're right," she says smirking, "those were delicious."

"Yeah," he says gruffly, "well next time order your own. I don't share well."

His gaze his hot and possessive as it meets hers and she feels grateful the check arrives in time to prevent her from leaping across the table and doing something quite improper.

Stereophonics' _Language Sex Violence Other_ runs as their soundtrack for the morning and they're both quiet for an hour, letting Kelly's gravelly voice wash over them. It's only when the lyrics for _Rewind_ get too much for her contemplate that she switches it off.

"Where are we?"

He glances in his rear view and then over at her, "'bout an hour past Toldeo."

She blinks in confusion, "but I thought we were going to Cleveland! I _knew _I didn't recognize this landscape. Noah where on earth are we going?"

"Woah woah woman one statement at a time! You put me off Cleveland with all your bitching yesterday. I switched it up is all."

"Well- where are we _exactly_?"

He shrugs, "near Temperance."

She sits up in her seat excitedly, "we're near Luna Pier?"

"Uh yeah?"

"We should stop," she exclaims.

"Why? That place is like, dead."

"I like seeing the ocean," she says softly. And fuck now he _can't_ say no. How does she have this power over him? It's like he's got control of his emotions one minute and then she says something like _that_, even something so small and unassuming and he's gone again.

"Fine," he grumbles, "but we're not staying long. Wanna get to Marilyn before it gets dark."

She giggles, "look at you being all responsible."

"Watch it Berry, don't go throwing big words around. I aint being responsible- I just hate drivin' in the dark."

Rachel rolls her eyes, she has no idea why he's _so _against the idea he's actually a good person- more than that in fact- but she bites her tongue. She knows however much he lets her get away with; he _does_ have a breaking point.

She's right of course. Ask anyone and they'll admit it; Rachel Berry's almost always right. She learns _all about_ Noah's breaking point several hours later when she's left standing in a public car park with no shoes and Noah's tail lights disappearing down the road.


	5. Trouble River

**A/N: oh goodness apologies people. i kind of... stopped watching Glee and stopped loving everything about it for a while so i stopped posting until i could get back in the mood! I am really sorry i took so long about it! Thanks for sticking with me!**

It all starts so fucking innocently that he doesn't see it spiraling until he's storming back to the car and by then it's way too late to stop it. She's yelling his name and for a second he wants to turn around but he can't, he just fucking can't.

They pull into the nearest car park and Pucks rolls his eyes fondly as she jumps out as soon as they stop. She looks like a little kid running over to the railing, almost falling over it in her excitement to lean down and examine the sea.

He chuckles, tugging on his sweater and jogging over to join her, "it ain't goin' anywhere Berry, chill out."

She rolls her eyes, clambering up onto the railing, shivering excitedly as her bare feet touch the metal. "Don't pretend like you're too cool for this Noah." Then without warning she flings her arms up and lets the wind whip around her.

"Shit girl," he puts a hand on her back as he climbs up beside her, "be careful!"

"I happen to have excellent balance Noah," she glances down at his own feet that struggle to find purchase on the metal bar and smirks, "unlike you."

"Shut up," he grumbles, "otherwise I'll toss you over."

"You'd only have to dive in after me," she says laughing. He doesn't want to agree out loud because she'd turn and give him that soft look of affection that makes him want to do something stupid like kiss her so he doesn't say anything, just rolls his eyes and looks back out at the ocean.

He has to admit, it feels pretty fucking awesome to stand on the bars with the sea crashing underneath them and nothing else in sight but more grey blue waves; it's kinda like he's standing on top of the world.

She rests her head on his shoulder briefly and thinks that right here may be she's the happiest she's been in a very long time.

"You wanna go and check out the shore?"

"In a minute," she says softly.

He tilts his head down to look at her just as she's glancing up at him and there it is again. That desire to lean down and run his hand across her cheek, angle her face up and he realizes he's actually moving closer and she's not stopping him. The noise of the waves and the gulls seems to blur into the background and all he can focus on is her, the way her breathing has sped up and her eyes are fluttering closed and- and they're broken from the trance when her fucking cell interrupts them. She rests her forehead against his shoulder briefly; it feels like an apology and he's almost mollified before he sees the screen flash _Finn_ when she pulls it out of her pocket.

He clenches his jaw, "what is that like the fiftieth time he's rung?"

"No," she says flatly, "it's the first."

"You had like a billion missed calls this morning, how were _none_ of them from Finn?"

She sighs, "because I asked him not to call."

Noah pulls away and she immediately misses his warmth. She's relieved as well however, whatever just passed between them was intense and she knew if _he_ hadn't closed the distance between them she would have done so herself. But Finn and her blasted phone had gotten in the way. It feels ironic really, once upon a time she would have given anything to be leaning in to kiss Noah and then get a call from Finn- now though- she wishes Finn had lost her number. And Noah- her heart's still racing and she feels absurdly hot, despite the sea breeze whipping against her face. He makes her toes tingle to put it bluntly.

Noah steps back off the railing and keeps moving away, "so what, are you gonna answer it now?" She hates that she knows why he's putting distance between them, hates that this whole situation went from easy and fun to complicated and messy with just a phone call.

He _knows_ it's completely irrational but he really hates that Finn has even had contact with her while they've been away from school. This has been _their_ trip and suddenly the guy's ruining it, even from seventy plus miles away.

The big black cloud also known as _Finn Hudson_ raining a shit storm on his parade. Or something equally pathetic that makes him want to kill the guy.

She really doesn't want to talk to Finn, she wants to see if Noah would still be willing to finish what they started but his face is thunderous and there can only be so many reasons Finn might call when she gave him strict instructions not to. "I don't know," she hedges finally, "it could be an emergency…"

"Then fuckin' answer it Rachel," he snaps before stalking off up the pier.

She's torn between wanting to go after him and to just get rid of Finn. But Noah's kicking at things and his back is rigid with tension and she feels that if Finn's called then she should at least see if it was worthwhile to cause such tension between her and Noah.

By _worthwhile_ she'd like to clarify that she means the hellmouth has opened up and swallowed McKinley High whole. She scowls and accepts the call, "hello Finn."

Puck heads right to the far end of the pier, kicking at random stones as he does so. It's really not fair to Rachel that he lost his temper like that, fuck after all she specifically asked the guy _not_ to call. But damn. It's just not cool that he has to fucking share her like this. And yeah ok, he doesn't even have a say in sharing her or not cos a) he doesn't own her and b) she's not his fucking _girlfriend_ but still. It pisses him off that someone like Finn is even on her radar.

"Noah."

Her voice makes him jump and he turns, leaning against the railing, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on a bird above them, "so what did he want?"

"He only rang to check we were still alive Noah! And after I confirmed that we _were_ he got quite angry and accused me of various things so I told him not to call again."

"He did what? What did he say Rachel?"

"Nothing! Nothing that matters. Noah this is ridiculous, why are you so angry?"

"Why did you answer the phone?"

"Because! Because it's Finn and-"

"And what you're still in love with the guy? Even after all the crap he put you through?"

"No! It's just-"

He takes a step forward, narrowing his eyes at her, "did you even break up with him before we came out here?" She's silent and he moves until he's right in front of her, "Rachel!"

"Oh what does it matter to you Noah?" She bursts out and he pulls back like he's been slapped, "what difference does it make to _your_ life?"

"Because the guy's a fucking jerk, he's been lying to you for months; you do know he slept with Santana right?"

Her mouth drops open and she shakes her head, "he wouldn't- he would never-"

"Well he did. And everybody knows about it but nobody bothered to tell you because everyone at McKinley High sucks _ass_." She's shaking her head, her eyes huge and horrified and he can't believe he's spewing all this crap at her but he can't seem to stop himself.

She just _doesn't_ get it.

"They lie and they fuck around and _you_ don't see it because you're so busy convincing yourself that just cos Finn's nice to you once every six months maybe eventually he'll turn into the perfect boyfriend and you can pretend all the shit in between doesn't matter."

"Oh like you can talk Noah," she snaps back, finally finding her voice, "you were the one who used to throw slushies in my face!"

"But I changed that- I fucking _apologized_, when has Finn ever apologized for anything he's done to you?"

"Why does what happens with Finn and I matter so much to you? We'll finish this trip and you'll go back to being Noah Puckerman- the boy everybody looks up to and everybody likes and I'll be the girl you all hardly manage to even _pretend_ to like in the choir room. Besides, you're the one who sleeps with a different Cheerio every week and slept with you supposed best friend's girlfriend- who are you to judge who I date? It's not like this actually means something to you- I was just available!"

"You think that's how this is?" He raises his eyebrows and his eyes, oh god the hurt in them suddenly makes her heart clench painfully, "you really think I'm still that person?"

"Noah-"

"Fuck you Rachel. I have _never_ lied to you- yeah we've been stupid in the past but shit changes- _I_ fucking changed. Oh and it mattered? Because I was the only one who actually gave a damn but congratulations," he holds his hands up as he walks backwards away from her before shoving his hands in his pockets, "you just officially alienated your last ally."

And then before she can respond he's storming back down the pier and heading across the car park.

"Noah!" He doesn't turn around and she begins to panic, running after him, "Noah please stop!"

She gets dust in her eyes from ten meters away as he reverses sharply and she's left standing in the middle of the car park, her feet smarting after running on the concrete, watching his tail lights disappear.

Ok so anyone witnessing that scene _might_ think he maybe over-reacted. And was kind of a dick.

Maybe not _kind of_ either.

Just a dick.

But damn he just wants to break Finn's nose for this. The guy has no right to accuse him of _anything_. Ok maybe he does but Puck's still pissed at him for breaking the bubble he and Rachel had managed to create on the road. Free from all the fucking judgment those other glee losers actually think they have the _right_ to bestow on them both.

_Bobby Jean_ is still playing from before he parked and pulled out the key in his hurry to catch up with Rachel and the lyrics seem to reprimand him. Losing the chance to tell someone how important they are to you, not having the balls to tell them how you feel before they take away the opportunity completely.

He sighs; her shocked face has vanished from his rear view mirror but it's stained on his brain. He can't believe he up and left her there after yelling at her for no reason other than that she took a fucking phone call.

The problem, he thinks, is that he's been emotionally involved for longer than he'd like to admit and he just got painfully, _sharply_ reminded that she's not in the same place as him- that she might not ever be.

It actually hurts to know that he found the idea of abandoning her here over his ridiculous issues with Finn quite acceptable and for a moment she doesn't know what on earth to do. Part of her understands more than she'd like to admit- the whole dramatic flounce off? She wrote the book on it. But the part that saw him buy her cupcakes and carry her bags and run around frantically searching for her and the way his eyes soften when he looks at her- that part wants to cry quite a lot.

She leans against the railings, letting her forehead rest on cold metal. This trip was supposed to be a _break_ from all the drama in their lives but somehow between the two of them they've made it even worse. And how dare he shout at her for having a conversation with Finn? Alright so her ex -boyfriend is not the nicest of people and he's certainly out of line to call her any sort of names- especially now she knows the truth. But the way Noah has treated her today? He's ruined any illusions she had of him being the sweet and decent man she might have actually been willing to give her heart to.

A lone truck circles around the car park and she swallows slightly nervously. It's not dark but it's going to be eventually and she doesn't even have shoes to wear. It seems absurd but she's quite bothered that if her body is found and she isn't properly dressed then that will be the headline rather than Broadway is starved of future star; it will just say "shoeless girl found."

"God damn you Puckerman!"

Without thinking he swings round, a car beeps angrily at him but he doesn't give a crap. He shouldn't have left. Fuck what if she's really been kidnapped by someone this time and it'll be all his fault? And the last thing he said to her was basically to go fuck herself and that she was officially alone.

He is _such_ an asshole.

He pulls back into the parking lot and hesitates- what if she doesn't want to see him now? What if she's already hitched a lift home and sailed into school and fallen into Finn's arms declaring she's the only guy who's never said aloud that she should-

"Well I hope you're proud of yourself," he starts as the passenger door swings open and Rachel climbs in, fuming. She begins to tug her shoes on as soon as she's settled and he does not, does not, breathe in happily as her scent refills the car. Cos that would be kinda creeperish right?

"Rach-"

"Oh no you've said enough Noah. You are driving me home this instant and we will not be speaking again for a very long time, possibly _ever_," she adds, glaring at him furiously.

Well that aint happening.

He sits back, pulls the keys out of the ignition and turns to face her.

"Rachel-"

"What are you doing? Start this _blasted_ car so that we can get home and put this whole nightmare behind us."

"No!"

She flinches and he swallows, ok so his whole apology thing wasn't going well.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"For what?" She demanded, "for yelling at me, swearing in my face, telling me about Finn and Santana or driving off and leaving me alone in a strange place?"

"I was gone like ten seconds!"

Her eyes widen and he drops his shoulders, "shit I mean- yeah- all of it I guess?"

"Pick one of them and start from there then Noah, I'm not going anywhere am I?"

"Look I'm sorry for leaving, that was a totally shitty thing to do to you."

"Yes it was! Noah I could have been brutally murdered!"

"Jesus Rachel don't say shit like that! No-one hurt you while I was gone did they?" His heart is thumping suddenly and everything else fades away as he scans her from bruises, his hands automatically moving to examine her face.

"No of course not," she says, surprised at his concern and then wondering why she's surprised; before he'd driven off he'd shown her a level of protection that she might even go as far as to say was _possessive_. She shivers slightly at the feel of his hands and removes them gently, "I'm fine Noah. But that still doesn't make up for the fact that you left me here!"

"I know," he swallows and then glances at her awkwardly, "look I'm sorry Rachel, I really am. I just- I got pissed off and I didn't wanna be mad in front of you," he shifts uncomfortably, "you know what I'm like I- I fucking run ok?"

She sighs and glances out of the window, watching a bird sail past, gliding on nothing, "Noah-"

"And I'm sorry about- about the other thing too," he interrupts quickly. "Sometimes I can't control my damn mouth."

"I'd noticed," she says drily and when he glances at her she's wearing a small, almost _fond_ smile. She sighs and picks at a thread from his hoodie before asking in a tiny voice, "why didn't you tell me before? You all knew! For months I've been so hung up on that whole situation and all along you've all know he didn't want me! I look like a _fool_ Noah."

"No you don't," he snaps sharply, "don't ever think that! Believe me Rach, you're not the one who comes off badly in this one. You're- fuck Rachel you know Finn doesn't deserve you. You have to know that deep down."

"Regardless, you should have told me Noah! I've always trusted you to be _honest_ with me and you- why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"I- I didn't think it was any of my business." Her eyes shoot up to meet his in disbelief and he huffs, "ok, to _start_ with I didn't think I had any say in it. And then," he trains his eyes on a seagull floating past, buffering against the sea wind bravely and swallows, "fuck, I didn't wanna use it as leverage ok?"

"Leverage?" Her heart is pounding again and it feels like all of the air in the car has suddenly been removed. "What are you-"

"You know what I mean Rachel," he cuts in- feeling even the tiniest bit vulnerable means he's not exactly going to be the most patient and polite he could be.

"So-"

"So if I had told you Finn banged Santana then you would have been mad at him and we might have done something stupid just so you could get some shitty revenge on him and I wouldn't have said no, because I've never said no to you! I never will. So that's why. I don't wanna go into anything that starts out for the wrong reasons so there. _Leverage_. I didn't want it."

He can't sit in the car a minute longer now he's spewed all that out and he snaps his seatbelt off and dives for the door.

"Noah wait-" she's out of the car just as fast and in front of him before he can head back up the pier, "would you please stop running away from me before I can reply to things you say?"

"I don't wanna make you feel awkward Rachel it's obvious you still have feelings for Finn-"

"Well there's your first mistake," she cuts him off crossly and he blinks in surprise. "If you'd let me speak for just one moment then I could tell you that Finn and I broke up a week ago."

He blinks in surprise, leaning back against the railings for support, "you what? You and Finn- you split?"

"Yes."

"A week ago..." She watches his eyes dart back and forth, working out the timings, "like after you came to see me?"

"Yes! I don't see why you seem incapable of processing that information you know, I think I made it quite clear. After all- I do not think it would have been appropriate for someone in a relationship to share a bed with someone who was not their other half, don't you agree?"

He kind of misses the days when he didn't catch most of what she said and could tease her about it. Kind of. It's also sort of sweet to know he can keep up with her monologues and actually reply. He shakes his head, scrubbing a hand through his hair and across the five o'clock shadow that's morphing into three days of _can'tbefuckedtoshave_ scruff.

"We've been spending way too much time together," he says finally.

She scowls at him which makes him laugh out loud and just like that they're ok again. They're fine. He knows that in a minute he'll say something lewd or "offensive" and she'll laugh whilst trying to reprimand him. It'll be awesome.

And _shut up lungs_, he could totally breathe just fine when she wasn't sitting beside him in the car while he was driving away ten minutes ago.

"So what now?" She realizes as she asks she's nervous he's going to change his mind about this whole trip. That maybe now they've let some home truths slip he'll be feeling less sure of himself, more vulnerable, more of a desire to push her far, far away.

"Let's go into Marilyn," he says after a moment, surprising her both by his suggestion and the way he sways slowly into her space, as if he's not even entirely aware of it.

"Really? You want to stop here tonight? We haven't driven very far."

He smirks and shrugs, "don't care. S'not like we're in a rush. Besides," he leans closer and she thinks maybe he was moving towards her on purpose the whole time- she really should stop thinking he's predictable- "you've still got that hot little number you need to rock somewhere _I_ get to see it."

She laughs and rolls her eyes, "you're unbelievable."

"Yep," he grabs her hand and pulls her back towards the truck, "it's almost like I'm too good to be true right?"

"That wasn't-" she stops, taking in his soft smile and the way his eyes are fixed on her with so many emotions so clearly on show and starts again, "you're one of a kind Noah."

The smirk he was going for doesn't quite come off as cocky as he'd planned it and he feels quietly awed that she puts up with his shit; lets him say stupid things and rant about Springsteen; the way she never actually tells him off for staring at her legs; that she came to visit him in juvie and that she's here now.

"Rachel," he starts as she clambers in, turning back and leaning on the door to look expectantly up at him, a sweet smile on her face.

"Yes?"

The words stick in his throat and he clears it, "m'glad you didn't hitch a ride home."

She stares at him for a moment and then very slowly leans up, places a hand on his cheek and then kisses him. Despite the fact he had seconds to prepare he's still caught off guard but then his brain catches up and he tugs on her elbow, pulling her out of the car and deepening the kiss.

She's always thought he was a good kisser but it seems like either he's gotten even better over the months or that this time around there's something more significant about it for her; with the way her heart is fluttering and her hands tremble a little as she slides them up and around his neck she suspects it's most definitely the latter.

Her feet have somehow landed on his and he uses it to his advantage, sliding his hands down her back so that they're completely flush against one another, bodies slotting together like pieces of a puzzle. And that makes sense because yeah he's foul mouthed and he likes his booze and his football and he's probably more suited for a medieval kind of life where they just went around beating the shit out of each other for fun and then going for drinks later but damn if he isn't right for her. He knows he is. He doesn't have to run to keep up with her the way Finn ever had to; he's happy to set his own pace and just let it charge right into hers and demand she pays it attention every once in a while. He's just as loud as her, just as blunt and he gets her. And she gets him. And he's not letting her go now that they've finally collided.


	6. I'm On Fire

**A/N: i don't know where this came from, i like, wrote sexing. i haven't ever before. if it sucks i apologise, it's not over the top or anything but yeah. this whole chapter is probably rainbows and candy in comparison to the last one because i am high on love for Puckleberry and Mark after going to the Glee tour! god i'm nervous about this one though!**

"I'm not wearing this."

"Yes you are."

"I look like a complete chump."

"Impossible."

"Don't you trust my judgement?"

"Don't you trust _mine_?"

"Please."

"No, leave it on and get out here."

"No!"

"Don't make me come in there!"

"Are you that desperate to see me naked?"

"Yes, that's exactly what it is; I'm dying to see your torso. Noah just get out here please!"

Puck sighs dramatically and sweeps back the curtain, eyebrows raised, unimpressed.

Rachel puts a hand to her mouth, eyes wide with amusement and then tries to look serious, "see? It's a perfect fit."

"Rachel-"

"I love it Noah, the whole combination makes you look… dashing."

He shoots her a look and then shakes his head, "I can't believe I even let you talk me into this."

"If you want me to wear that dress out then you have to wear something that will go with it," Rachel ran her fingers through a rack of ties that would put even Shuh's taste to shame before pulling out a hideous checkered green and yellow one, "I think you should try this next."

Puck tugs off the ridiculous orange tie he's sporting now and whips at her legs, making her squeal and dodge behind a rack of woolen dresses.

"Noah! Not in public."

She stops, looking alarmed at what she's just said and he smirks, "yeah, you can't ever take that back now Rach."

"It's your fault," she cries, throwing a purple leather bag at him, "you make me say such… filthy things sometimes."

He shoots her what can only be described as a downright dirty smirk and tosses on a trilby hat he grabs from the nearest hook, "and I couldn't be prouder."

She has to admit that with the hat tipped almost completely over one eye, the other looking at her with hooded amusement and just a spark of something else, his mouth turned up into a cocksure smile; he's damn right sexy. She resists the urge to jump him in public and throws a glove to knock the hat off, "have you picked a jacket?"

Puck rolls his eyes, everything in here is over twenty years old and worth less in dollars. He only let her drag him into the thrift shop because he's trying his best to give her what she wants, whatever it is. And if she wants to torture him by making him try crappy suits on and laugh in his face well, he's gotta deal. It doesn't hurt that she looks happy, content even and when she giggles and covers her face all shy and sweet she makes his heart squeeze in his chest. Yeah that. That's totally why they're in here.

Fuck he's becoming a woman.

He watches her sift through a pile of tour tee shirts and lets out a noise of exclamation when she lifts up a ratty black one, "shit Rach stop!"

She whirls in shock and he realizes too late his voice was probably a bit too urgent and panicky considering the fact the tee won't fly off by itself but he strides forward regardless and tugs the cotton from her hands, "jesus do you know what this is?"

"A ratty old tee shirt?" She hazards a guess, scrunching up her nose as he un-wrinkles it.

"Dope," he mutters fondly, ignoring her sarcasm in favour of unfolding the sleeves to let it fully unfurl in all its glory. "This, is a nineteen eighty four Springsteen Born To Run US tour tee shirt, I was fucking conceived on that album."

"Romantic," she says drily and he flicks the shirt at her face gently before swinging it over his shoulder and heading to the till.

"Noah wait!" She grabs the trilby hat, a grey silk tie and the least ridiculous of the blazer jackets to throw on top of the shirt.

He raises an eyebrow but to her amazement doesn't say anything as he drops them all on the counter and pays less than thirty dollars for the whole lot.

"This town is motherfucking cheap," he exclaims as they step outside, reaching for her hand the same way he's done all week.

She doesn't admonish him, instead her eye catches on a dark purple sign about halfway down the street, old gold lettering peeling away reading _Smoke and Songs_. Curiosity piqued by anything to do with music she tugs on his hand gently, "look!"

He follows her, amused by her excitement as they get close and she realizes it's a jazz bar.

"Oh Noah we have to go!"

"Babe I don't know if you've noticed but it's not open for another six hours."

She kinks an eyebrow at him, "whatever will we do with ourselves until then?"

His mouth goes dry at the insinuation and he needs to get her into a hotel room right the fuck now. Rachel Berry will never cease to surprise him.

This time it's Rachel who follows behind whilst Noah leads, enthusiasm to get behind closed doors clear.

* * *

He shuts the door with a sharp kick, pushing her back against it as it swishes closed. "So fuckin' hot Rachel."

She lets out a noise that cannot be described as anything other than a mewl as he kisses he neck, strong hands stroking across her hip bones, one of them sliding up to run through her hair.

"Noah," she breathes.

"M'right here," he murmurs, tugging at the strap of her light pink camisole. She really does make the shittiest outfits look so _fucking_ hot. His point is made when she pushes him onto the bed, climbing gracefully on top of him to straddle his hips and that stupid pleated skirt fans out, brushing her thighs in an awesome way. He never knew he had a thing for the choir girl look until Rachel Berry started walking around dressed head to toe in it.

"Don't start thinking now," she teases, grinding down on him to emphasise her point.

He raises an eyebrow, "oh you think you're funny?"

"Oh I think-" he doesn't let her finish, sitting up to cover her mouth with his and splay his hands across her back, grasping at smooth skin.

She lets out a gasp as he kisses her neck, "have you- Noah-"

He pauses and pulls back to look at her and hot damn she is a sight for sore eyes; her soft lips all red and full, her face flushed a cute (fuck off he's allowed to say that ok?) pink and her hair all mussed up from where his hands have been getting familiar with it.

She bites her lip and raises her eyebrows and he grins, getting her point.

"Babe," he twists them on the bed so that suddenly she's pinned underneath him smiling despite her surprise, he noses at her cheek and then looks into her eyes, "there's no way I'd go anywhere with you and not come prepared."

"You thought I was with _Finn_ at the start of this trip!" She's trying to look indignant but he's distracting her with his wandering hands and she shudders suddenly when he grazes her inner thigh.

He shrugs, "I figured you'd see sense eventually- even if it meant driving for a year or two- you were pretty dense about him."

"Noah!" Any other admonishments she has for him are drowned when he kisses her again and hey, he's totally the boss for making Rachel Berry speechless.

* * *

Puck tosses the remote on the bed, the sheets are all still scrunched up and shoved to the bottom from earlier and he smirks to himself. They used those six hours pretty damn well.

"You nearly ready in there doll face?"

"Patience Noah!"

He rolls his eyes and stands, stretching, he used muscles he hasn't used in a little while today. Shit Santana was flexible but she's got nothing on Rachel's dancer legs. He really hopes the room next door wasn't occupied because she also has nothing on the noises Rachel can make.

"I know this place opens late but that doesn't mean we should arrive at last call!"

She opens the door looking cross and shit- he forgets what he was even _thinking_ before.

He stills from stretching, mouth open, "fuck Rachel." The dress is skin tight, the fitting room lights in that crappy store doing no justice to how damn good she looks in that colour red. Her hair is scraped back into one of those buns she wears so well, loose and messy and so _fucking_ sexy.

"Well that reaction makes up for you pestering me I suppose."

"Yeah I-" he swallows cos yeah, what? Words? No. Not yet.

She tugs at the dress, "so it looks ok still?"

There's a hesitance in her stance as she looks over at him from the bathroom door and he jerks to, moving over to her, twirling the trilby she made him buy- truthfully it's kinda fuckin' sweet but you know- she can't know that. He flips it onto his head feeling excessively proud when it lands with a cool swish and he grins at her, thumbs sliding across the satin before resting on her waist, "you look beautiful."

This time when she smiles it's wider. He feels the now familiar sensation in his chest he gets when he puts that smile on her face and he can't help but grin back.

He calls her lots of different things, sweet, dirty, downright offensive things, but he doesn't throw that one around lightly and she likes it the most. "Thank you," she says softly, reaching up to touch his tie, "you cleaned up well yourself Noah."

They're silent for a second, letting themselves get familiar with this new territory. They're not just co-members of glee club anymore, no longer friends or friends with certain benefits or _fuck_, any of the other ways they could have defined themselves before. This is new for him. He freaking hopes she's in the same boat.

She thinks maybe she'd call them lovers.

"Come on," he says quietly, "before we don't make it outta the room at all."

* * *

The bar is busy but it doesn't feel crowded, it's not smokey but it's the kinda place that makes him wish he had a Cuban. He's bizarrely glad she made him buy the jacket because every guy in here looks razor sharp. The band are all in loosened ties and cooly cut suits, the saxophonist with added shades and a top hat. The whole place oozes old school cool and charm. The lighting's low with dark blue silk tablecloths and heavy hanging curtains around them and above, draping from the ceiling and curling round the bar.

He moves his hand from her lower back and takes her hand, pulling her towards an empty booth while the band hum out something haunting and mellow.

The waitress doesn't even ask for ID and Rachel suddenly feels extremely grown up ordering a Manhattan as she crosses her legs and settles into her seat. Noah drapes an arm over the back of her chair and she's content to lose herself in the music, the thrill of being somewhere no-one knows them- or cares what they do or who they're _not_. This is adulthood she supposes; as soon as you leave the doors of high school behind no-one worries about who got the leads in a solo for an amateur glee club or who scored a winning touchdown in a football game. They're wonderful achievements you carry with you and she's proud of what she's done in glee but it's not the be all and end all. She can't keep putting her faith in something so lightweight, something that won't bring her much in the way of joy or even the stardom she craves.

But then, as she sits watching the lead vocalist crooning out an old classic and envying his ease, his charisma and comparing it to her own performances she can't help wondering who he was ten years ago. If he was worried he'd never make it anywhere and if he ever looks around at what he has here, this gorgeous, unassuming place, and thinks how glad he is for it all. She thinks if this was her life in ten years she'd be happy with it.

She's pretty sure some of that happiness would belong to the knowledge that Noah's somewhere in the audience, watching her with hooded eyes and a private smile, a glass of something in his hand as he waits for her to finish up for the night. When he could take her home and unzip whatever little black dress she's worn for the evening and keep her up half the night seeing stars. Or maybe he'd be singing instead, they could take it in turns, or he could play the piano- she has no idea where these thoughts are coming from but they don't unsettle her.

Perhaps stardom isn't your name in lights on Broadway (she could still do that _too_ of course) but maybe it comes in just being able to captivate an audience, no matter how small, with the stories she can tell through her voice.

He can tell she's listening but that her thoughts are a million miles away and that just won't do. Her brain works too hard and he needs her to switch it off and relax. With a glance at the floor he shrugs off his jacket and then nudges her shoulder, "you wanna dance?" She looks so surprised he wants to laugh, "what?"

"You're willingly approaching a dancefloor?"

"Hey! I dance in glee club all the time!"

"That's different."

He shrugs, "I like this kind of different better." He stands and holds his hand out expectantly, "so?"

She hasn't said no to him yet, she wonders why he looks nervous at all. She slips her hand into his and follows him out onto the sparsely filled floor.

The guy singing notices them and smiles, mid song, winking and then continuing on. Puck kinda wishes he was as cool as that guy. It's not like he's not awesome- cos he fucking is- but that guy, the whole band, fuck the whole place, it's got something. He kinda wants to stay here with Rachel forever. She's not entirely different here but there's something that's changed. She's relaxed, completely, as she leans against him and yeah ok he totally blew her mind earlier so that could be a part of it- of course it is- but there's something else. He reckons it's the idea that life doesn't stop outside of Lima. That people are ok finding their own way in other tiny towns, building on their dreams until they can do something like this on a regular basis. He hadn't even thought about performing after glee club; it's awesome to see that maybe, just maybe he could.

It's a pretty fucking sweet way of life too. He likes this town. Likes the tiny little bookstores that make Rachel geek out and the way the other patrons are all chilled out, not glaring at him for daring to have a Mohawk or even dream of dancing with the famous good girl, it's a nice change.

Maybe it's what they needed all along.

* * *

This time when she wakes at six sharp she doesn't think anything of curling closer towards the body pressed up against hers. His arm is still slung protectively across her waist and she turns, tracing her fingers up his shoulder and across his collarbone. She wonders how many girls he ever allowed to stay and see him like this, so peaceful, so vulnerable. And he _does_ look strangely vulnerable, his dark eyelashes fluttering as he sleeps. It's so strange- and wonderful- to see the sharp and angry guards down for once. Don't get her wrong; she has nothing against the protective streak she seems to bring out in him- but to see him this relaxed and trusting- she feels honoured. This whole trip has opened her eyes to some things she hasn't been willing, or even ready to face. But she's glad he's pried it out of her with his calloused hands and gently gruff attitude.

Rachel is fiercely loyal to her core and she needs that same loyalty in the people she lets in- she needs to know they're going to fight tooth and nail just as much for her as she would for them. It's why the glee club has never made her feel totally comfortable, totally at home. The stage has been her place of solace, the only thing that makes her feel one hundred per cent safe- when she's on it there's a sense that for a moment, if only the three minutes she's there- it would crash and burn without her. And that makes her feel wonderful. It's why she pours her heart out, her passion and her joy, it's all left out there on the stage because no-one ever seems like they want it in reality. The people she's supposed to call friends shy away from the chance to get to know that she's more than just a doll they can bring out on show night.

And Noah. He _sees_ something in her. When he looks at her she feels like she's on a stage but just for him; like no-one else in the world is listening and she could sing him an entire discography and he'd just sit and listen. He doesn't judge her for what she is, never tries to hold her back- he just, sets her alight and lets her run with it. He makes her burn with that same passion she gets out under the spotlight.

She's so busy staring at the thin scar just underneath his chin that it takes her a moment to register that his breathing has changed, that at some point during her exploration of his skin his eyes have opened and are looking at her with sleepy intensity.

"Busted," he says with a slow smirk. She feels herself flush but before she can pull her hand away he catches it and holds it in his own. "S'cool- besides I can't blame you," he shrugs, "I _am_ pretty fine."

She rolls her eyes but ruins any disagreement by inching closer, tangling her legs between his. It catches him off guard and he lets out a low noise of approval before pulling the sheet up above their heads, throwing them into warm, tinted pink darkness, "I vote we don't leave today."

"Are you even planning on _ever_ going back to school Noah?"

He shrugs, "dunno, you wanna?"

"We have to!" She's laughing but her eyes are serious as she takes a breath, "we can't avoid home forever."

"So we'll make _this_ home!" His hand tightens on her hip so she's glued to his side while he twists and shoves the sheet between the headboard and the wall, "see? We got a roof and everything."

"Katy Perry would be proud," she says softly, running her hand over his chest as it rises with his indignant breath and settles over his heart soothingly.

He snorts and rolls over to lie on top of her, relishing the way she lets her legs fall open so that he can settle between them; and fuck off it is _not_ girly to like the way he fits there, like he was kind of always meant to.

She reaches up to stroke his cheek and then smiles before saying sweetly, "I'm glad you kidnapped me Noah." He opens his mouth to say something, protest that it wasn't fucking kidnapping and that she came willingly, more than once he might add dirtily, or declare this way too much of a chick flick moment but she moves her hand to cover his mouth, "don't ruin your chances of morning sex."

He smiles then and damn it's awesome that she knows what he was gonna say but she doesn't care, she's gonna stop him making so many stupid mistakes now.

"You're awesome," he states suddenly and her smile widens and then she's kissing him hot and hard, her hands suddenly clasping at the back of his neck.

It's frantic after that; they're both feeling a reckless abandon at being in this tiny corner of the world where no-one knows them. Where there's only time to explore and to find out if kissing behind her ear gets the reaction he wants and yes- it does- she arches into him, gasping his name and tugging him impossibly close. Somewhere along the way she loses the tee shirt (his) that she'd slept in and in the rosy light she looks fucking radiant. He's never gonna tire of seeing her naked; of knowing she's flushing because of what he does to her, that kissing her shoulder gets her seriously hot and that her legs were fucking _made_ to fit around his waist. His hands slide up her sides and resting in her hair as he kisses her. She drags one of her own hands down his back, pulling him as close as possible as one of his drops to her hip, stroking at the skin, his knuckles brushing against the bone before he digs his fingers in hard. He helps her discard of the tiny blue panties she insisted on wearing to bed (he was against clothes altogether) and he feels _this_ close to losing it as he grinds his hips down, feeling how wet she is for him. She moans- she can't help it- and he lets out a shuddering breath as he slides in to her, "god-"

"Oh-"

"So fucking hot," he murmurs, hands pushing her arms up, curling around her wrists briefly before tangling their fingers together above their heads. She feels the wood of the headboard and lets it ground her before she loses herself completely in what they're doing, in what he does to her.

He's never lost it like this, not with anyone else. She's so goddamn sexy and she's making all these tiny little cut off noises, like she's scared someone's gonna hear them and he smirks, kisses down her neck to bite gently at her collarbone, "come on Rach, don't get quiet on me now." He picks up his rhythm, feels her push against him and finally, finally she cries out and it's almost better than any note he's heard her hit on stage cos he knows _he_ made her do it.

"That's it baby," she catches him off guard when she clenches, making him jerk forward and groan, low and gutteral and god it's hot, it's so _fucking_ hot. He sucks at the juncture between her collarbone and neck, watching incredulously as the morning light makes the sweat on her skin shimmer while it darkens to a deep red.

That's _his_ fucking mark right there.

She can't breathe with the weight of the moment, from the heat of the sheet above, cordoning them off and making him the _only_ thing she can see, his body covering hers as he moves inside her. But it's not suffocating. It's the good kind of breathlessness she's always singing about, always looking for but never found until he barged into her life all angry and surly and wonderful. She wonders if this is what falling in love is like and whether or not he'll leave her broken hearted. For a second she panics, clutching at his shoulders and he pulls back, his green eyes filling with concern and _oh_, there's something else there, something she's sure is mirrored in her own gaze.

"Relax," he mutters gently, "I got you." And just like that she knows she doesn't need to run from this, doesn't need to create her own highway alone, far away from any humiliation that comes from him not reciprocating- he does.

She can _feel_ it in her bones.

He bends to kiss her gently, his movement changing the angle and god it's not anything like she imagined when it's with him; it's so much _better_.

"Noah," she whispers, "I-"

"Yeah," he groans, "oh god, Rachel yeah."

She bites her lip, the world shrinking down to his gorgeous eyes, blown wide with pleasure and the way he feels all around her and then he's muttering against her neck, words that feel heavy with meaning and she tenses up, letting out a cry as everything goes dark before exploding with light, such glorious light and her body feels like it's on fire, lit from within as wave upon wave of pleasure crashes through her. She can feel him coming, hears him groan her name and then still finally, hands slowly releasing hers and trailing down her arms.

"Fuck," he exhales quietly, rolling to the side and throwing an arm over his face, "god that was-"

"Awesome," she finishes for him and he laughs, using his spare arm to pull her close, hand slipping against the sweat of her stomach before settling on her back.

"Yeah."

She smiles, no other words available to her as she looks up at him, she feels overcome. It's like a weight has been lifted and she's too far into this to let it go but she's ok with it, more than that, she's happy to let herself run away with the emotions and see where they lead.


	7. My Beautiful Reward

It's totally her fault they're lost. He's always had trouble driving with her in the passenger seat now it's almost fucking impossible not to get distracted. She's just, there. And she's his. He's not into the whole mine forever shit or like, branding his name on her or whatever but that's not what it means. What it means is that when she turns to look at him, giving him a soft smile and reaching out to run a hand up his arm he feels like he can't focus. All he wants to do is pull over onto some dusty hard shoulder and blurt out all sorts of romantic crap like the stuff they're listening to on the radio right now. Instead he missed the turning for the freeway and now they're god knows where.

Rachel doesn't seem bothered in the least, twirling her hair in her fingers and humming along to the tune, smiling softly to herself.

He turns it off, mostly just to mess with her and she makes an irritated noise before switching it back on.

"Berry do we really have to listen to this?"

"I like Amy Stroup; she has an extremely good range and a lovely tone and-"

"Alright," he flicks the radio back on, "you like it we'll listen- I don't need that much convincing."

"Tell me about it," she says smirking.

He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, "wow babe, I'm kinda proud right now."

"I can't decide if that's a compliment or something I should be concerned about to be honest."

"Both probably," he shifts in his seat and tries to concentrate on the road instead of leaning over and kissing her senseless when she suddenly prods his arm.

"Noah look!"

"What? What?"

"Crazy golf!"

He squints at the faded sign and pulls a dubious face, "Rach it's probably been out of business since nineteen ninety four."

"Well can't we find out?"

"You really wanna play crazy golf?"

She shrugs, "what else were we going to do today?"

He grins, "ok, let's go check it out." She smiles brightly at him and he wants to stomp down on the fluttery feelings in his chest but he can't seem to bring himself to really try.

She thinks with anybody else, what they've been doing would be considered too fast. But for them this has been coming for a while. Maybe she wasn't consciously aware of it at all times, and she freely admits she spent too much time pining over Finn, but Noah's always been there, spent time and effort trying to defend her, trying to help her, becoming the man he always was deep down. It doesn't feel like they should be having first dates and second dates and careful weeks of dancing around each other, misjudging situations and ending up treading water the way she's done before, it instead feels like barreling head first into something sweet and honest is the best thing she could have ever done.

He follows her as she jumps from the car and bounces towards the entrance, "you ever played before?"

"Of course, once or twice," she says confidently, enjoying the weight of his arm across her shoulders.

"Well at least it looks open," he mutters as they push through the gate and a bored looking teen straightens up at the counter.

"Hi there, welcome to Crazy Hank's _Crazy_ Golf Course," she intones flatly.

"Yo, two for your uh, _crazy_ golf course please."

"Sure," she bangs two clubs down on the counter and holds up a box of golf balls, "pink or blue?"

"Pink please," Rachel decides before he can speak, "two- _he likes pink_," she adds in a whisper. That at least pulls a smile from the girl and Puck grits his teeth as he passes her a twenty before following Rachel across the grass.

"_Seriously_? You're going there with the pink jokes?"

"You like it when I _wear_ pink, what's the difference?"

"The difference is-" he waves his hands around incredulously, "it's- you look hot in pink ok? And I do not appreciate the implication that I might want a girly golf ball."

She snorts, "Noah, it's just a colour, besides, they're so much prettier."

"They're _prettier_?"

"Uh huh, when I used to play with my daddies I always used the pink ones. They bring me luck."

He cocks his head to one side, "when was the last time you played crazy golf Rachel, were you five?"

"No! I'm very good at sports like this, ones that require precision and concentration and-"

"No physical exertion at all?"

"I'll have you know I dance six times a week Noah."

"Trust me," he leers at her legs, "I know."

She stamps her club down onto the ground, "are we going to play or are you just going to- to- stare inappropriately at me all day?"

"Can't I do both?"

When she takes five strokes to get the easiest hole he knows it's going to be an awesome game; she's basically half naked in those shorts, there's absolutely no-one else around and he has no other obligations other than to beat her ass at crazy golf and rile up her competitive side, maybe get some awesome angry sex out of it if he can.

They take their time moving round the course, Rachel gets the cutest little frown when she's mad and at one point she actually _yells_ at the ball; he does _not_ film it.

At hole eleven she growls in frustration and waves her club around, "Noah help me!"

He chuckles and pushes off the wall he's been leaning against to watch the train wreck that is Rachel Berry trying to play crazy golf. "You gotta relax Rach- breath-"

"Don't give me that _crap_! None of that means anything in reality." Her hair has gone haywire from her dragging her fingers through it and somewhere along the course she's ditched her flip flops and her wrap. She looks like a _really_ good dream he has sometimes.

He comes to stand behind her, pulls her a little closer than he needs to but hey, he's allowed; he's _helping_ her. He pushes his hands down her arms and twines their fingers, "you've gotta have a steady push through," he murmurs in her ear, "drop your shoulders and-" he guides her arms back and taps the club against the ball. It sweeps neatly into the hole and she laughs delightedly.

"Yes!" She turns and kisses him, "thank you."

"Don't mention it," he says gruffly. Every part of him that was touching her is warm and he's a little dazed as he takes his own shot. He gets it in four and writes it off as playing under too much pressure. At the next hole she stands with her legs apart so that he can see the hickey on her inner thigh and gets a hole in one; Puck gets the shot in five because his brain is replaying what that specific patch of skin felt like under his mouth.

She's distracting all the way through, sitting down in a huff when she misses and showing off her cleavage, leaning against the rocks that surround the course and pouting, revealing tanned sweet skin that he just wants to-

"That's your fourth hit Noah, are you feeling alright?"

He coughs and straightens up, "yeah just a little dizzy from the sun I guess. What's the score now?"

Rachel glances down at the scores she has memorized in her head and then back up at him innocently, "for seem reason you seem to be on forty six and I'm on thirty three."

"What? How is that even possible? You suck!"

She smirks slightly and then tries to look puzzled but he catches the change- he's gotten good at reading her- and frowns. He knows that look- he fucking _owns_ that look and his eyes widen as he realizes he's been had, "have you been _playing_ me?"

"What?" She stands, planting her hands on her hips, "I don't know what you're talking about!"

Her shocked outrage lasts about three seconds before her lips twitch and he tosses his club to the floor to stalk towards her, "you've totally been playing me!"

"I'm sorry," she laughs, running back through the course and up into the dingy broken fort the last hole was set up in. She turns just before he catches her and says with a grin, "for someone who claims to be an expert it sure took you a while to catch on."

His jaw drops and shakes his head, "you are in so much trouble."

"What are you gonna do?"

He pushes her gently against the cave wall and tries not to shiver as she arches into him, "can think of a few things."

"Are you sure? Seems to me like your brain might not be operating today."

"Not my fault; you're too fucking hot for your own good."

She slides her hands up his back and leans forward so that their mouths are almost touching, "you love it really."

He doesn't bother replying, just kisses her hard until she forgets her own name, never mind the golf score.

* * *

There's something wonderfully decadent about orgasms in the middle of the day Rachel has decided. Especially outside. She can feel her legs tingling with the repercussions half an hour later when they're driving away from the golf course- she really hopes there weren't cameras in that cave but then again- no-one would even know them so it doesn't matter really. She thinks the old Rachel would probably have been so mortified that she would have made Noah march into the office and demand the tape; then again, the old Rachel wouldn't have been letting _Noah Puckerma_n slide his hand into her shorts on a _public_ crazy golf course. This Rachel might not be keen to repeat a possible voyeuristic event but she certainly doesn't care that it was with Noah. She was reacting on instinct and _want_.

Noah makes her want _all_ the time, to touch him, feel his hands on her, listen to him talk, fall asleep next to him.

She twists in her seat and fiddles with the radio, turning the song up loud, _Girls In Their Summer Clothes_, before turning to watch the town they're passing through shoot past the window.

Mike's face appears on his screen for the third time in as many hours and he sighs and presses ignore. It's not cool to be shutting out his boy like this but he knows exactly what the guy is gonna say and what he's gonna want to hear in response. He sighs again and clutches the steering wheel tighter; he's kind of in over his head here. With Quinn it was hard sure, she wanted things he couldn't give her and man did she have the whole 'you're an inadequate moron' face down. And in the end it fucking hurt to let it go but he never felt like something was ripped from him when she walked away. It didn't hurt like the shit with Beth had- he's pretty sure nothing ever will. But going back to school and losing Rachel... That might just come close. He's never felt this way about a girl, _ever_. Being out on the road, in this car and in the random motel rooms they fall into at night, that feels easy, intimate, _theirs_. But he knows that'll change the first time they walk down that corridor and he- he's just not ready to lose her. He _can't_ lose her ok? He's a selfish bastard but he's not ready to let go. He straightens up and smacks himself internally- he is not allowed to pull her down with him just because he wants to keep her to himself.

"Noah."

Her voice startles him and he glances at her, "yeah babe?"

"Didn't you hear me?"

"Sure- you said Noah- which, by the way- is _not_ my name."

"You call me babe I call you Noah," she shoots back.

He grins and shakes his head, biting his lip, "fine fine."

"You know you don't mind it really."

"I _hate_ my name."

"I like it," she replies quietly.

And that, well, ok, maybe he won't ever love it- come on- Noah? He doesn't have forty plus animals marching two by two behind him and he doesn't need asking about a fucking arc _ever_ again by that dick Karofsky. Man he'd like to kick the shit out of that guy some time. But maybe, _maybe_, he could get used to her calling him by his proper name; it's almost like, a thing with them. He smacks himself again for being a total chick.

"Whatever," he mumbles finally and he knows she's smirking at him without even turning to look. "Did you want something anyway doll?"

She huffs, rolling her eyes and then says, "where do you want to stop for dinner?"

He takes a look out the window and then shrugs, the town here seems nice enough, "you want me to pull over? Take a walk?"

She nods, stretching out her legs and he has to stare determinedly at the road for a few seconds to prevent them from crashing, "that sounds like a good idea- my legs are beginning to cramp."

"You want me to do something about that?"

"Yes, but not right now."

He has to squeeze the steering wheel painfully tight to avoid a near miss with an SUV in the other lane.

"That wasn't fair," he groans out eventually.

"If you're going to make lewd comments Noah I expect you to be able to handle my responses."

She watches as he bites his lip and then jerks into a free space by the sidewalk, "i don't think you can handle half of what I've got Berry."

It's a little frustrating that the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice does all sorts of things to her, partly because she's not had anyone get under her skin the way he does but mostly because they're in a parked car in broad daylight and there's only so much public indecency she can go for in one day.

"Bring it on Puckerman," she mutters softly before sliding out of the car and leaving him shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

She should not be allowed to have that kind of effect on him; it would be embarrassing if she weren't so damn hot and- and seriously who the fuck would have though?- downright dirty. She's like, the classiest girl he knows but the dark streak she lets out every once in a while- it's fucking _sweet_.

He jogs after her from where she's moved quickly on up the side walk- literally afraid her resolve would break and she'd jump in the front seat- and she smiles quietly as he tangles his hand with hers. He pulls her into him, kissing her hard, "you sure you're ready for what I've got?"

She lets out a small noise as he bites at her neck and arches away from him, "you're all talk," she gasps breathlessly.

They're semi walking, semi staggering along the paving stones and she trips on one, forcing them against the wall for stability. He uses it to his advantage, resting his whole body against hers as he crowds into her space, "you sure?"

She kisses him, welcoming his warmth and feeling his tongue tie bows with hers as they battle for dominance. She feels heady on his kisses, it's a rush like no other, the knowledge that he wants her just as she wants him, that he loves doing this with her. Rachel Berry, the awkward over achiever that never used to get a second glance from any boy, no matter how hard she tried. Noah makes her forget how badly she used to feel; he makes her feel _new_. He makes her feel like she can't breathe and like she has all the oxygen she needs all at once. Like she's precious and made of glass but then at any moment like he could break her apart, let her loose, free her. She slides her hands under his tee shirt and appreciates the way his muscles twitch under them. He's got an arm resting above their heads, creating the tiny world that belongs to just them like he always does and one hand creeping dangerously close to the hem of her shorts-

She pulls away right before he can trace a line up her thigh and he bites his lip, tilting his head and smirking, "too much?"

"We're on the street Noah," he's happy to hear how ragged her voice sounds, like he gets to her just as much as does to him.

"So?"

"So we stopped for a reason- I'm starving and we're in public."

"Didn't stop you earlier."

He should have known that was the wrong thing to say, she shoots him a look and then straightens up, pushing him gently away, "that was different."

"You shouldn't make me want you all the fucking time if you're not gonna put out you know, s'cruel."

"Are you implying you're just in this for sex? Because I'm sure if you look down enough alleys..." She trails off, arching her eyebrows at him.

He wonders if it's too soon to state that he's never going to want to look anywhere else. That he's got what he needs for life, right in front of him. Instead he breathes deeply and thinks of Mr Schue's hair for a moment before grabbing her hand, "nah, pretty sure I'm good with you doll."

"Pretty sure?"

"Think so," he shrugs, "you're ok I guess."

She starts walking again looking severely unimpressed and he resists the urge to yell "you're fucking perfect ok?" Before jogging after her and wrapping an arm around her waist, "so what are you in the mood for?"

"Pizza," she says firmly.

It almost stops him in his tracks and he tugs on her back to pause, "what?"

"I eat pizza you know!"

"No you eat rabbit food- and _straw_."

"I do not eat _straw_! If you'd rather we can find a health bar."

"Na uh," he shudders, "not now you've given me all these nice thought about you and pizza and _special_ deliveries."

The swat she aims at his shoulder is less than heartfelt.

* * *

They've been sitting in the tiny booth with red vinyl seats for about twenty minutes when he cracks. He's been thinking about it all day and it's bothering him. What he feels for this girl, it's big and it's fucking scary but that doesn't give him the right to hide from it. To hide her away from the rest of the _ugly_ mother fucking world they have to go back to. He wants to shield her from the crap they're gonna get but that's not fair to her. She deserves to make her own decisions, to fight her own battles, and let him help her if he can. Fuck that actually; he's helping her whether she likes it or not. The first sign of crap from Finn or Quinn or even Schue and he'll kick some serious ass.

"Noah?" Her hand on his arm draws him from his thoughts, "what are you thinking about?"

"You won't like it."

Her hand drops like she's been burned and he grabs it again quickly, "it's not that bad!"

"Oh," she smiles quickly, "I'm sorry, I just thought maybe-"

"You thought I was changing my mind?"

She stares down at the tablecloth, "I- I don't know- you've seemed distant all day."

"What? Babe I was feeling you up on a crazy golf course three hours ago!"

The waitress arriving to take their order backs away from the table, "I'll give you another minute!"

Rachel buries her face in her hands and he laughs fondly, tugging them away, "Rach-"

"A hole in the floor needs to come and swallow me now," she groans.

"Oh come on, I'm sure she's heard worse!"

"That's not the point," she hisses. She can't think of a situation she's ever been more embarrassed by, not even the time in third grade when Matt pulled her skirt up and everyone saw her underwear and teased her for a month can come close to Noah's announcement to the whole restaurant that she's a wanton _hussy_.

He's laughing loudly now and she realizes she must have said that all aloud in her flustered state, "oh god."

"You're so cute Berry."

"I hate you."

"No you don't, you love me."

She opens her mouth to argue and then hesitates before hiding her face again.

"No I don't!" She manages finally.

There's a heavy pause before Noah clears his throat, "I think we should go back to school," he says quietly.

Rachel thinks the term a _knife to the heart_ has never felt more literal than it has right now. She can't breathe for a second and it takes all of her strength to keep the tears at bay as she looks up at him. She can't handle how heavy her heart feels at the prospect of returning to Lima. She doesn't like the idea of not being with him _all_ the time, of not feeling this free from the weight of everything back home. Of Noah fading out of her life again.

"If- if you think that's best."

"Rachel-"

She starts to stand, "I'm not feeling quite myself Noah would you just excuse me for a mome-"

He catches her wrist before she can escape and pulls her down again, almost on top of him, "Rachel-"

"Noah please I really think it's best if I just have a minute, it's nothing really and I want you to forget-"

"I love you."

"-what just happened- wait-" she stops talking and stares at him incredulously, "what?"

"I love you."

She can't think of a single thing to say without blurting out the obvious but she can't quite be sure if he really means it and if he doesn't then she'll look like a fool. But his face is so open and sweet and _honest_. It cuts right through to her bones.

He smirks at her, twirling her fingers in his before kissing her knuckles, "wow Rachel Berry speechless."

"Don't mock me!"

"Babe I'm on a ledge here right now, you'll forgive me if I'm a little tense."

"Sorry," she says softly, shifting so that she's sitting completely across his lap, not caring that they're still in a restaurant, "I'm just- well- you're right I'm _speechless_."

"Look Berry, it's fast, I know that, but I think it's just, you know," he leaves one hand wrapped tightly round her waist but uses the other to scratch the back of his neck nervously, "I think it's been there for a while. You're under my skin you know? Mostly it's annoying as hell because you talk too much and you boss me about and you insist on wearing the tiniest clothes ever and then tell me off when I can't help but appreciate the view and you have questionable taste in music and-"

"Those don't really sound like reasons you would lo- _like_ a person Noah; it sounds more like you don't like me very much at all actually," she huffs crossly.

He laughs, "christ woman would you let me _finish_? That's just the thing- no-one else can simultaneously keep me in check and make my head spin the way you do. And as much fun as this has been, as awesome as whatever we're doing out here," he waves around his free hand, "in fuck knows where- it's not enough."

She blinks in surprise, "it's not?"

"In five years sure. Rachel, I'd bring you back to any of these places and keep you forever if you'd let me. Hell I'd keep fucking driving if I thought that was really what you needed. But it's not. We had a time out, we got stupid and wild and fuck, it's been sensational," his eyes glaze over for a moment as he thinks about how particularly _sensational_ it's been and then he shakes his head, "but- we gotta go back. You have shit you wanna do with your life and you should do it now, not look back and wish you hadn't screwed up school because you were ok with letting the haters talk you down. So I think we should go back, and you're- you're definitely gonna be my girlfriend because there's no way I'm saying all this shit and then letting you go- and- and I swear if anyone screws with us, we'll deal with it ok?"

Rachel runs a hand through his 'hawk, smiling softly, "I think that's the most I've ever heard you talk."

"Yeah well," he shifts uncomfortably, jiggling his legs, "normally you don't let me get a word in edgeways."

She lets out a laugh and then sinks into his arms, "ok."

"What ok you'll be my girlfriend or ok you agree we should go back or-"

"All of it. You're right, we've," she smiles briefly and lifts her shoulders up, "we've had a moment to breathe and- now we should go back."

"Wow did you just say I'm _right_?"

She tries to slide off his lap but he tightens his grip, beaming up at her as she scowls, "I misspoke."

"Ha! No you didn't you said I was right, woman I am never forgetting this moment. For the next twenty years I swear every time you ever call me a Neanderthal or whatever other posh sounding insult you come up with I am going to remind you of this moment right here and-"

"I love you too Noah."

He stops talking, staring at her wide eyed, "oh. _Oh_."

"Speechless?"

He shoots her a look that she supposes is meant to be scary but comes off far too fond, "touché."

She can't help but smirk as the waitress, finally assuming it's safe to approach, makes her way over. Noah might crow about making _her_ speechless but when push comes to shove no-one can shock an audience quite like Rachel Berry.


End file.
